Final Destination Encore
by BTolson23
Summary: Sabrina Holland is a visionary with nothing more to lose. After she finds herself winning a contest for the 'For the People' Festival in Somerset, England, she is forced to save the others on the bus, including nine fellow contest winners, the host, and three musicians. With more than just Death as a threat, Sabrina has to figure out a way to survive... just like last time.
1. Prologue

_2012  
><span>__June 13__th__, Wednesday  
><em>_21:01_

The ringing in her ears ping-ponged back and forth, drowning out all other sound. She could see nothing but darkness before realizing that her eyes were shut. The smell of burnt meat occupied her nostrils, but it wasn't any animal she was familiar with; like pig, but something wasn't quite right about it. A metallic taste was in her mouth and after exploring with her tongue she found her top lip had been ripped open and blood soaked into her skin.

_ What happened? _

Sabrina Holland tried to piece together her thoughts. She must have fallen unconscious as this wasn't how waking up from sleep should feel like. Perusing her memory she started to remember chunks of the day. She had been surprised in the morning by her parents and friends… but what for?

_My birthday… that's right._

They had gone to this fancy restaurant for her 18th birthday, the types that have the tiny portions and rich alcohol.

_Was that it? Did I drink too much? It was the first time I've drunk alcohol… but why are my ears ringing? Is this a hangover?_

Waiting a few moments, the ringing started to disappear, replaced by a crackling sound like… fire?

Sabrina's eyes snapped open. Above her was the inky night sky, the stars twinkling and black smoke billowing into the air? She could make out more noises now – somebody crying, some groans of pain, the sound of sirens close by. Feeling smooth tarmac under her fingers, Sabrina pushed herself up to a seated position, feeling as if she'd been punched in the mouth. A great, flickering orange blur was in front of her. Blinking furiously, her eyes focused on the flames. Massive orange flames. She could feel the heat from her.

Then she saw the bodies through a collapsed wall.

Charred figures with raw pink flesh exposed. Some were reaching outwards, clawing for survival but failing to find it. Others had curled into a fetal position, as if to protect themselves from the inferno. Her eyes drifted to another body, this one half burned. An older man, his bottom half completely burnt while his top half was limp and pock-marked with smaller burns. Wire-rimmed glasses hung from one eye, blue eyes staring straight into Sabrina's own.

"Dad!?" Her voice left her lips, thick with blood. Sabrina scrambled to her feet and fell hard back down, her left leg giving way underneath her. She yelped in pain and looked briefly at her leg. Something sharp had gone straight into her flesh, embedding itself deep into her muscle. A piece of metal or something. Sabrina drew in her breath. Seeing the wound somehow made it feel worse. Quickly turning away, she focused back on her father. "Dad!" She pushed herself back to her feet, using a nearby railing to hop towards the body. She collapsed to her rear next to him, pain zapping up her leg. She grabbed her father's arm, but it was heavy with death. "Oh god… oh god…" Sabrina felt something rising and turned to vomit, but all that came out was a small amount of acidic fluid. She spat on the floor, blood mixing with the bare contents of her stomach.

Seeing that fluid, the rest of the black spots of the night came back to her.

"I… I saw this... I…" Sabrina blinked, her head pulsing. "I saw this earlier today… I didn't eat… I wasn't feeling well because I… saw this…" Shivering, she pushed backward away from her father's body. "Oh god… I saw it all… and I… I walked out because… I didn't warn anyone… I…" Sabrina's eyes widened at the realization. "Could I have… saved you? Saved anyone else? What if I said something? Dad… is this… could I have…" Feeling a heavy knot in her stomach, Sabrina's hands curled into fists, her chest rising and falling as her breathing grew faster and faster. "No, no… this isn't… no, this can't be… not my fault… this isn't… I saw this though… I could have…"

Sabrina put her head in her hands, nails digging into her forehead. "Are you dead because of me? This is my… this is my fault, isn't it? Ah… this is… hah… hahah…" Sabrina's head dipped down, making a noise that was a twisted fusion of sobbing and laughter.

* * *

><p><em>June 14<em>_th__, Thursday  
><em>_15:45_

The room was far too light for her liking. Pale blue walls, white curtains and bed sheets, that horrible turquoise-like floor. This was a hospital – a place of death and sickness. It should be dark colours to make people feel right at home with their misery. Sabrina absently rubbed the three stitches on her lip, glaring around the room. She hated hospitals. They were like ugly markers in the history of death and war. Hey, look over here, this is where you are given false hope and die. Her left leg was stretched out in front of her, wrapped in bandages. The wound turned out to not be serious, managing to avoid any serious arteries or veins. Twenty more stitches and it was all good; just a tiny pulse of pain every now and again.

Her clothes had been stripped from her when she had passed out after the paramedics found her hysterical and clutching her father's body. Now she was in this horrible gown that felt so synthetic.

Her father… it felt like a faint memory, a nightmare. No… it was real… but she didn't feel sad. Maybe all her sadness was lost the previous day.

"That's fine…" Sabrina murmured to herself. "I don't like being sad." She glanced out of the window and saw lush green grass. "I want to go outside." With this simple thought in her mind, she swung her legs from the bed and stood on them with a wince. Her left leg still couldn't take her full weight. Limping over to the dresser she opened the drawer and was happy to find some clothes. Nothing special, a white t-shirt and jeans. Cheap stuff. "I suppose there is nobody to give me clothes from home…" Sabrina mumbled before heading for the door. Gripping the door-knob, she pulled.

_Click. Click click. Click._

"Locked…" Sabrina was surprised. "Why is it locked? I should be able to leave whenever I like." She tried again, stubbornly pulling and pushing on the handle. "Move… move! Let me through. Let… me… through!" She grit her teeth and slammed her shoulder into the door, only to make her bounce backwards. Panic rose up in her throat. _They think I did it… oh god, they think I did… I'm gonna be arrested, I'm going to be put in jail for the rest of my life, oh Christ, I'm gonna… _"LET ME OUT!" Sabrina screamed, slamming her palms on the door. "LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, LET… ME… OUT!"

After a few minutes with no reaction, she stopped shouting and turned her back to the door, sliding down it with her legs stretched out. "They think I did it… they think I killed them. I didn't…" Sabrina rammed the back of her head into the door. "I DIDN'T KILL THEM!"

The sound of a key turning in a lock hit her ear. Pushing her way from the door, she stared in fear as the door opened and two suited men looked down at her. One was dressed in a shabby brown suit with a trilby hat propped on his head. He had a neat black moustache and soul patch combo. He was thin and gaunt, almost looking ill. However a friendly smile played on his lips.

The other man was heavy-set, with broad shoulders. He wore only a white shirt with the top button undone, revealing the start of a hairy chest. A loose tie was around his neck and small beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He didn't look neither friendly nor horrible. His expression was blank as he chewed on gum, his mouth moving up and down like a cow chewing cud.

"Sabrina Holland." The younger man with the trilby asked, extending his hand. "We need to talk."

* * *

><p><em>17:00<em>

Sabrina hesitantly sipped at the bottle of water, the rim scraping her hurt lip. Swallowing, she placed the bottle back on the table. A cheap, vending machine sandwich lay forgotten, not even touched. Opposite her sat the man with the trilby. He had introduced himself as Eugene Hawk, a special detective investigating a certain series of events. His partner was Harold Kelly, who still had that odd emotionless expression on his face, the _snap snap _of the chewing gum the only noise in the room.

Eugene smiled that smile of his again. Something was wrong with that smile. It was friendly enough, that was for sure, but something was just… off. "Are you ready to talk?" Eugene asked with his soft voice. "At your own pace, Sabrina. We have time."

They hadn't arrested her yet. Sabrina figured that maybe she wasn't blamed for the explosion. She was obviously a person of interest. However, she was concerned that she hadn't seen any real police officers. Just people in shabby suits. Staying quiet, Sabrina looked at the table.

"You are not in any trouble, Sabrina."

"Well, that depends." Harold growled, a thick Irish drawl.

Eugene sighed. "_I _don't believe you're in any trouble. I don't think you caused the explosion yesterday. It was just an accident."

Sabrina absently nodded. It was an accident. She just saw it before it happened, was all…

"So what did you see?"

Stiffening, Sabrina looked up into Eugene's eyes. They were as friendly and off as his smile. "I… I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do. You saw something approximately five to ten minutes before the accident?"

"A vision," growled Harold again.

"I don't… I d-don't know what you're talking about." Sabrina made the split decision to not mention her… vision… as they called it.

"That's fine, perhaps you didn't realise it was a vision. Did you feel something akin to Déjà vu when you woke up? Like you saw the fire before?"

"No… I don't know what you're talking about. What do you people want?"

"We want answers, Sabrina, that's all." Eugene stood up, slowly walking around the table to Sabrina's side. She shivered, smelling an expensive but subtle deodorant.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry, but I don't know…"

"Then why were you outside of the restaurant?" Eugene asked. "You should have been inside with your family, celebrating your 18th birthday. Happy birthday, by the way." His smile flickered, the friendliness turned into something malicious for barely a second.

At that moment, Sabrina decided she hated Eugene Hawk. Nevertheless, she knew she had to answer his questions. She had to make sure they believed her. "I was feeling sick. Probably because I was drinkin-"

"No you weren't." Eugene answered before she could even finish her words. "There was no alcohol in your body. Try again. Why were you outside? You must've known the explosion was coming."

"I didn't! I was just feeling ill… I don't remember I… why are you asking these insensitive questions? I just… my dad… my family… my friends…"

"All dead, I know. And here's the thing, Sabrina." Eugene placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "I need to know if you knew the explosion was going to happen, because as far as I'm concerned, it is a citizen's duty to try and save others if that person has the privilege of being warned. So did you know it was coming? Did you know that the explosion was going to happen? Did you see the deaths beforehand? Answer me, Sabrina."

"I didn't know, I… I just felt ill, that was why I was outside. I don't know anything about visions, I don't."

"I don't like liars, Sabrina." Eugene whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "This has happened before. So called visionaries not saving others… Citizens being selfish… you had time to at the very least warn the restaurant. Maybe they would have dismissed you, but you would have tried. But you didn't try, did you? You just left and allowed your father… your family… your friends… to die. Without even a tiny hint." Sabrina was stock-still, feeling Eugene's breath on her ear. "People like you are scum…" Suddenly Eugene drew back, a smile back on his face. "Unless you're not. Maybe you are telling the truth. Perhaps you did feel ill. Perhaps we are here for nothing. Maybe this was nothing more than an… unfortunate… accident."

"That is what it was… I h-honestly have no idea what you are talking about." Sabrina was scared. More scared than she had ever felt before. She wanted to go. "Are you going to… am I free to leave?" She feared the answer.

"Leave." Eugene echoed. "Of course. If you want to leave…" He swung his arm, motioning at the door. "Then leave."

Sabrina stood up quickly, heading over to the door. She was afraid Eugene was going to shut it but she managed to step through the doorway before Eugene leaned close once again.

"But we will be keeping tabs on you. You will be very… closely… watched."

* * *

><p><em><span>2013<br>__February 22__nd__, Friday  
><em>_22:45_

Water splashed her bare thighs as Sabrina walked down the shore of one of St. Ives' beaches. She was dressed in shorts and a bikini, ignoring the chills of the night air. The waves washed slowly back and forth, feebly grabbing at her ankles before falling back past the sand. She had tied her blonde hair back into a ponytail, letting it flap behind her as she slowly walked. She loved the beach. It was safe. Realistically, nothing could happen to her.

Because over the last year, _everything_ had happened to her. The first time happened not long after she left Eugene and Harold. Deep in her thoughts, she was almost hit by a car. If it wasn't for a passer-by pulling her backwards in the nick of time, she would have been red paste on the road. As the months passed, it felt like the world was trying to kill her. Scaffolding had fallen down when she was near, bricks tumbled from loose foundations, potholes in the floor threatened to trip her and bash her head in. But no matter what, she managed to avoid all these instances of near death but they only grew harder and harder to avoid. After a particularly close call involving wet concrete, she had just left to search for somewhere less dangerous. Not willing to drive, she had walked through open fields, avoiding anything that could hurt her. The journey south to Cornwall (where she had visited on holiday once before, back in a better time) was exhausting, but without danger. She didn't live in an apartment, or even a tent. She simply carried a bedroll and sleeping bag with her, sleeping far enough from the cliff edges but close enough to enjoy the view of the ocean.

Money was never an issue. She had inherited her parents' savings and seeing as she wasn't spending it on houses or bills; only food and the occasional spare set of clothes, she could keep the money going for a long time. Shopping was a dangerous affair. She was scared stiff of something happening she couldn't avoid. The first time she went shopping she had gone slowly, scanning every inch of the place. She must've looked paranoid… truth be told, she was.

She had been living essentially homeless ever since. Homeless… but safe. The sense of freedom was refreshing. She could do what she wanted, wherever she wanted. She could forget all about Eugene, Harold, the accident, everything. Sometimes she wondered if she should mourn more for her family and friends, but she could never do it. She just felt blank regarding them.

As the sand shifted under her bare feet, Sabrina sighed and sat down, ignoring the water washing past her. She looked into the stars and hugged herself tightly. "Why me?" she asked to no-one, her voice carried away by the faint wind. She didn't know why she felt the urge to speak, but she continued to do so. "Is this some kind of punishment? Because I avoided death? Am I to risk death for the rest of my life? I don't want that… I don't… I don't want that…" Tears trailed down her cheeks and Sabrina hunched over in misery. "I don't know how much longer I can go on… I don't think… I don't think I can do this… let this end… let this end…"

Then she heard something. Heard an answer to her pleas, carried on the wind. She perked her head and the voice came again. She wasn't crazy. Something was definitely speaking to her. "What should I do?" she called out. Listening intently, she flinched. "Is that it? Is that the answer?" Sabrina paused and drew back. "Me? I'm not special, I'm… oh… oh, so that's why…" Sabrina looked back up at the night sky. "I see. I understand… Thank you. Thank… Thank you! I can finally be free… I can…" Sabrina smiled. It felt like an age since she last smiled. "I can be free again…"


	2. Over You

_2014  
><span>__August 26__th__, Tuesday  
><em>_07:43_

"…_and then he came up to me and hit on me, can you believe that? Just swaggers on up with that cocky smile of his and goes, 'Hey there Maylene, you wanna… you know?'"_

_Jace smiled, knowing his girlfriend would never betray him like that. "And what did you do?"_

_ "I may have accidentally thrown my drink into his face." Maylene shrugged, her pretty blue eyes lighting up. "He left soaked, completely embarrassed. That'll teach him. Besides, he didn't know, but you're the one for me." Maylene leaned over the empty dinner table, placing her hand on Jace's own. She smiled, showing off bright white teeth. The two stared at each other before Maylene giggled and Jace chuckled. They both quickly got up off their chairs and jogged over to the stairs. Jace barely made it before Maylene tackled into him, locking lips. They stayed kissing for a few moments before Jace broke free, his face lit up._

_ "I think… the bedroom'll be much more comfortable than the stairs." Jace breathed, although to be perfectly honest he could have taken Maylene right there and then. He climbed up the stairs and entered his bedroom, peeling off his shirt. Throwing it to the side, he turned around as Maylene entered the room._

_ "WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO MY PROBLEMS!" Maylene screeched, her voice echoing around the room. Jace blinked, shocked. She held a wine bottle in her hand and approached Jace. "It's not all about you, Jace! I have my problems, I have my situations!"_

_ "Maylene, I-"_

_ "DON'T! Just don't say a word!" Maylene smashed the wine bottle on the drawer nearby, the red liquid spilling all over the floor. "I need to be taken care of! I need attention! My family ignores me, you ignore me, everyone ignores ME! I'm the important one here!"_

_ "I don't-"_

_ Maylene screamed in pure anger and whipped her hand forward, throwing the broken wine bottle hard through the air. Jace saw it coming but his feet were glued to the floor. The bottle shredded past his cheek, tearing it wide open. He yelled out in pain and fell back, blood spilling from the ragged wound. He pushed himself to a sitting position and his voice caught in his throat at the horror before him._

_ Swinging back and forth slowly, like a twisted pendulum, Maylene hung from the roof, a rope tight around her neck. Her neck was twisted to the right, the rope making a deep red mark in her flesh. _

_ "Maylene!" Jace ran towards her, the left side of his face covered in blood. As he approached, Maylene's head suddenly snapped straight, her dead eyes staring straight into his soul._

_ "__**YOUR FAULT!**__"_

* * *

><p>"Ah!" Jace Ryan jolted up from his bed, breathing hard. He blinked rapidly, sweat running down his face. Trying to get his breath under control, he stumbled from his bed, out of his room, and into the family bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he panted, trying to get the image out of his mind. After a few minutes, his breathing finally under control, he slid down the wall, head in his hands, sobbing.<p>

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "Son?"

Jace blinked through his tears, looking up at the door. "D-Dad…?"

"Are you… are you okay?"

Jace grit his teeth but couldn't lie to his father. "No… No, I'm not."

"The door is unlocked… can I come in?"

Jace sniffed, wiping his bare arm over his eyes. "I guess…"

The door opened and William Ryan came into the room. He was about as tall as his son with the same dirty blonde hair, although Jace's was much darker. However he had a neat moustache compared to Jace's unshaven face. William looked down at his twenty-two year old son and sighed. Falling to one knee, he asked a question with one word. "Maylene?"

Nodding, Jace hugged his knees.

"Son…" William licked his lips. "It's been four months. I know that it's hard, I know, but… you cannot be like this."

"Like what?"

"I don't mean to insult… but you are a mess. You barely eat anything, you haven't shaved since it happened, and you don't take care of your clothes or yourself. I'm worried about you, son."

Jace nodded. He wasn't insulted but rather grateful for his father's honesty. However he didn't say a word, just stared at the floor. William sighed and stood up. "Come on downstairs, Jace. Your mother and I need to talk to you." His father left the room, the door shutting softly behind him.

After a few minutes, Jace climbed up to his feet. Looking into the mirror he could see that his father was right. His hair was all over the place and his lower face was covered in thin facial hair. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes hollow. A slice of facial hair was missing, highlighting the ragged scar on his left cheek. Looking down from the mirror, he turned the tap on and splashed water on his face, the cold making him feel slightly better. The morning dream was drifting away from his memory now. The dream he could forget though, the actual event… Jace shook his head quickly and exited the bathroom, heading down the stairs and into the living room where his father and mother were waiting for him.

Jace took much of his father when he grew up, and only the blue eyes of his mother. Andrea Ryan had raven coloured hair which was greying slightly with wrinkles starting to show on her face. She looked up at Jace as he entered. "Hello, Jace."

"Hello." Jace replied back. They never said 'good morning' or anything like that. Most of the time, Jace's mornings were never good. Jace sat down on the spare seat, facing his parents. He had a feeling he knew what they wanted to talk about. They probably wanted him to leave… a twenty-two year old shouldn't live with his parents if he isn't paying rent or helping around the house. If they asked that, he would leave without question. He knew it must be hard having a broken son around the house. He'd have to find somewhere to stay… he didn't have any friends anymore. He lost contact with them since it happened.

"Son… your mother and I have been thinking… we can't have you dragging yourself around the house like you have no soul." William leaned forward. "You are too good a man for that. It's heart-breaking to see you… melt away like this. We are your parents, we want to best for you."

_Here it comes…_

"We need you to be happy again." Andrea took over. "It pains us to see you like this. We've… denied you this for three years… we simply couldn't afford it. But now we see that you need to be happy, and we believe that this is the last chance. If this doesn't work then… I don't know… we…" Andrea trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

"We'd have to find you some help." William finished off. Jace blinked. They were going to send him off to some kind of counsellor? "But neither of us want that. If we can solve this depression by ourselves then that's all for the better." William reached into his back pocket and pulled out two slips of paper. He placed them both on the table in front of him. Jace leaned down, confused. One was a plane ticket… to England? And the other was… Jace blinked again, in shock. "You… I thought…"

The ticket showed shadowy figures frozen in dance with purple lights shining down on them. Emblazoned across the ticket in big letters were the words: FOR THE PEOPLE 2014. Written underneath, in smaller letters, was the slogan: "Made by the people, with the people, for the people!"

Jace couldn't believe it. The For the People festival was something he had wanted to go to ever since the first year in 2010. Ever since Glastonbury Festival was cancelled, the For the People festival had replaced it bigger and better. Some of the biggest bands around the world performed at the For the People festival. Jace knew that the performers for the 2014 festival were some of the biggest names yet. The world famous rapper, Elijah Freemon. Charlie Walker "The Modern-Age Cowboy," and they had even secured the comeback of one of the most famous musicians, the man named Bridge. He had been gone for 12 years without a word – unless you count those rumours that he had performed in Japan in all those years. Just those three names had sold out tickets for the two hundred thousand strong festival. Not to mention all of the other bands and acts sure to be there. The For the People festival included amateurs as well as pros. As long as you have performed at least 10 times to a crowd of any size with favourable results, you could apply for the festival and get your music noticed.

The reason Jace couldn't believe that his parents had gotten the tickets was the same reason they couldn't get them three years before. They were far too expensive. The festival ticket itself was three hundred and sixty dollars. Count in the plane ticket of Canada to the United Kingdom as another eight hundred and forty dollars and that was one thousand two hundred dollars in total. Where had they got that kind of money?

"We've saved this up, Jace. We need you to be happy again. So please, will you accept this and go? See if you can find that happiness you once had? We know how much music used to mean to you…"

"I… thank you…" Jace had no more words than that. Of course he would go. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps taking this trip to the For the People festival would be just what he needed to clear his head.

* * *

><p><em>August 27<em>_th__, Wednesday  
><em>_14:06_

It had been a full night since the car park gates had opened and already they were filling up. Opening them at night allowed festivalgoers to arrive during hours where normal traffic wouldn't be too much of a problem. The first few cars arrived, followed by a steady stream which slowed but continued going all through the early hours of the morning. At eight o'clock the rain had started to fall just as the gates were opened to allow the festivalgoers inside the grounds to set up their tents. At nine o'clock the steady stream became a river of cars and vans, splattered with mud but filled with beaming faces .

"I still prefer London." Timothy Yalton grumped, hands shoved deep in his pockets and rain falling from the lip of his police hat. "At least there the rain doesn't make everything a damn bog."

"It's not all that bad." Carol Tearn replied. She had her arms crossed to try and ward off the cold, her ponytail slapping the back of her neck every time she turned, the rain weighing it town. Both officers – along with the others spread out by the entrance – had luminous green jackets over their normal black vests and ear-pieces snaking down past their collars.

"Tell that to my boots." Timothy lifted up one foot to demonstrate, mud falling from his ankles. The formerly black boots were now brown. "It'll take an age to clean these off."

They were standing by the Civilian Gate D, at the end of the White Route. People were happily chatting as they slogged through the mud with backpacks on their shoulders and bags in their hands. While the stream was steady, more and more people would start clogging up the paths as the days went on before the weekend.

"Why were we chosen, of all people?" Timothy continued to complain, scratching his cheek.

"Why not? We get a boost to our pay, so I don't see what the big deal is."

"The deal is mud!" Timothy exclaimed, watching the many different types of festivalgoers enter the grounds.

"Look on the bright side then. At least we get to patrol in the car at night."

"Oh yeah, that's the bright side. Nothing like catching a night-time romp of sex-addled teenagers. I swear, kids these days…"

"Aw, Tim, they're not all that different from us when we were their age." Carol smiled. A faint blush rose in Timothy's cheeks and he merely grunted. "Besides, I'm more worried about drugs and cigarettes. I can't believe children as young as thirteen and fourteen smoke in plain sight, and the drinking is atrocious. I wish we could crack down on that more. If I ever caught my children…" Carol trailed off before she started ranting.

"I'm sure your kids won't be drawn into that world, not with a police officer as their mother."

"That's my worry though. Cindy's great but Olly? I fear that he is doing the complete opposite just for the sake of not being like me."

"Ah, he'll be fine. I hear some officers show their kids drug dens and the seediest bars just to show them how much they'll ruin their lives."

"I guess I could do that, but I don't know… I guess I'll just wait it out. Hopefully he'll find some sense."

Timothy nodded. "He will, don't worry."

"How's your relationship with Mary going?" Carol inquired, watching a gaggle of Japanese pass through the gates, flashing their tickets. Most of the early arrivals were from other countries. The For the People festival had one of the most diverse fan bases; people all over the world came to watch their favourite bands.

"It's going good." Timothy replied, glancing down the path. "We're both nervous, so both of us make fools out of ourselves equally. But we've both faced loss in our lives… I think we both think that this can work."

"That's great. She's a great woman from what I've seen." Carol smiled, proud of Timothy. Timothy had lost his wife to a car accident only a year into their marriage. To make matters worse, Susan was pregnant. Timothy had been miserable for a long while. It took a while for Carol to push him to find happiness again. He met Mary on a dating website. She had a similar experience, losing her husband early in their marriage.

"I hope it works." Timothy muttered.

"It will." Carol smiled. "You two are perfect for each other." Carol couldn't help but feel slightly jealous to see Timothy moving on in his love life. Sometimes she needed a man in her life. But unlike Timothy, her marriage was ten years long before it fell apart. They had had two children before Jeff was stabbed in a mugging two years prior. She feared that if she found another man, Cindy and Olly would resent her. She needed to think of her children, even if it meant she spent her nights alone.

Timothy wasn't an option. Despite the fact they had had a fling in their early years, it was a relationship which could never work. Especially since Carol had gone to Timothy's doorstep two nights after her husband's death a wreck. The two spent the night together and Carol nor Timothy had ever forgiven themselves. It took a number of months before they could fix their friendship, but the love between them was not an option anymore.

Blinking away those memories, Carol concentrated back on the path with a heavy heart. This rain was making her depressed which wasn't a good thing. She tried to be friendly and smile but today was wearing down on her. It was probably just the stress of the festival. After the week was gone, she'd be glad to head back to London and the metropolitan life.

Timothy glanced to Carol, seeing her deep in thought and knew what she was thinking about. Timothy could always tell what she was thinking, the way her face changed when her mind was on her family and the guilt that came with that day… Timothy was in the transition of dating websites when Carol had appeared at his door. His guilt was that he took advantage of a mentally exhausted Carol. He should have rejected those advances, should have kept her from making that mistake. Instead he ruined any chance to get back together with her. Because no matter how much he liked Mary, his first love was still his only love… He should have comforted her, taken it slow, been sensitive and let her take the lead.

Timothy sighed quietly and looked up at the wet grey skies. The day had gotten a whole lot more miserable.


	3. Let it Be

_August 28__th__, Thursday  
><em>_14:02_

"And this afternoon, we have a very talented guest. None other than world-famous rapper, Elijah Freemon!"

"Thank you, Abby, thank you."

"So, Elijah, you're going to be performing at the For the People festival this weekend, are you not?"

"That I am. It is gonna be a great time for all."

"Have you got any hints of your plans for your performance?"

"Hahaha, I can't just reveal all of my secrets, Abby, y'know that. Nah, I'm kidding, though, I'll give you some hints. Get you all excited for the festival, yeah? Well, without saying exactly what's gonna happen, I'll have a new song for you guys. It's called 'Freedom of the Birds." I'm not gonna say any more than that, though, so if you want to hear it you're gonna have to come on down to the festival."

"Freedom of the Birds? That sounds awfully poetic, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. But poems and music go hand in hand, to be honest. Both can have messages and that's what I'm all about, messages to the people out there who need that boost of confidence and help."

"Is Freedom of the Birds going to be your only new song at the festival?"

"Yeah it is. But I got some of my favorite songs that I've performed over my career as well. I'm gonna keep which ones a surprise, though."

"I'll guess we'll have to keep a close eye on the festival to find out which songs you are going to perform. We've had some other performers over the week here, and we've all asked them the same question so I'm going to ask you that same question. What does the For the People festival mean to you?"

"Man, the For the People festival is exactly my kind of festival. I mean, just listen to the slogan: Made by the people, with the people, for the people! That is my life, Abby, 'For the people.' For all of us who are miserable in life, all of us who've been pushed down and spat out. My music is to get those people up, to get them happy, to show them that life means everything, even if the current circumstances ain't agreeable. And that's what the For the People festival is all about. It's about music, it's about giving that joy of music to everyone out there who needs it, and even for those who don't. But for me? The For the People festival is a door to get my word out further and further. People all over the world are gonna be hearing me, and I want them to hear my message, to heed my words, to understand the worth of life and happiness, y'know?"

"Strong words, indeed. Elijah, over your career you've been focused on helping people, specifically children who have had rough lives. Is it all right to ask where this stems from?"

"It's perfectly, fine, Abby. It ain't no secret - and that's the whole point, this kind of stuff, it shouldn't be a secret, you gotta get somebody to listen to you, you gotta take it in your own hands and get these people who punish and hurt you out of your lives. Back when I was a small boy down in New York, my dad was a drunk, plain and simple. He'd go out every night, gambling away our livelihood, ruining me and my mom's life. He comes back, smelling of gin, or whiskey, or whatever the heck it was he happened to be drinking that night. He'd beat us, smack me and my mom around. It wasn't until I was eighteen when I decided enough was enough. And, well, we all know what happened then. I didn't go to the authorities, I didn't go to my friends or anything like that, I made the worst mistake of my life and I fought back against my dad… I was charged for fifteen years in prison for manslaughter. Fifteen years of my life, wasted away."

"…and that was when you decided what to do with your life, correct?"

"Correct, Abby. Fifteen years is a long time to think, and think I did. I didn't want others to do what I did. I didn't wants kids being sent to prison for fighting back. But I knew that fighting back physically ain't the way to go. So I started to figure out what I was gonna do. When I was finally let out into the world, I started rapping. I started to send my message out to all. I made a huge mistake in trying to fight my dead without contacting anyone. All I wanted was to protect me and my mother, but the law doesn't see it like that, and that's fair enough. That's my message: Get help. You're not alone. Even if you think you are, you are not, there will be people to help you out. Don't give up and don't make the mistakes I made."

"Wow… I think many of us agree with the message you send. Something a lot of our viewers have asked is something which is peculiar with you, in the nicest sense possible. Unlike a lot of rappers, you don't swear or have any sort of vulgar images in your work."

"That's a good point, Abby. Rap gets a bad rap, no pun intended. You see these guys from the streets, with their songs about sex, drugs, and death. That's not cool, man. They are ruining the lives of children who listen to them looking for an out. They hear that drugs are cool, that drinking is cool, but all that happens is it ruins them. Nah, I don't swear, I don't need to. My message is loud and clear without that kind'a stuff. I don't need these shock tactics, these rebellions against authority."

"So, Elijah, some of our viewers have asked for your opinion on some of the other headline acts, namely Charlie Walker and Bridge."

"Man, Charlie Walker is a cool guy. You can see that he enjoys what he does, that music is his life. I'm not the greatest fan of country music, but despite that I know that guy can sing. It ain't no surprise that he has risen such as he has. And Bridge? I can't say I know much about him, I mean, 12 years ago he was workin' with all sorts of bands out there. Now he's back and apparently he's gonna be playing solo, so I have no clue what to expect, y'know? I have no clue what kind of music he's going to be playing, even. He's a mysterious guy."

"Thank you, Elijah. It's been a pleasure to talk to you."

"A pleasure for me, as well."

"Good luck at the Festival, I'm sure many are looking forward to your debut of Freedom of the Birds. Well, folks, next up we read out some opinions of the mysterious Bridge, and whether or not he really is the Japanese pop star, Ryoushi, as many rumors state. All that will be after this break."

* * *

><p><em>22:10<em>

Night had fallen over the For the People festival grounds, but there was still a buzz of excitement and expectation in the air. Lights punctured the darkness throughout as people sat outside their tents, beers in hand, talking in hushed tones about the day's happenings. While the main stages didn't open until Saturday, a number of smaller stages had already had a few lesser-known acts play. The main acts would be headlining on the Pyramid, with Elijah Freemon performing on Saturday evening, Charlie Walker on Sunday afternoon, and the final act of Bridge performing on Sunday evening.

"Oh, come the hell on, classical?" In the middle of the Michael Mead camping ground, a group of four young men were sat facing each other outside of their pale blue tent. Gordon slapped his hand on the ground. "Are you kidding?"

"What's so wrong with classical?" Corey Walker asked, adjusting his beanie to keep his ears warm in the wet and chill air. The rain had subsided for the night, luckily. Chances are that it would resume just in time for Saturday, though. Corey was the tallest of the group of four, his frame disguised by his baggy jeans and hoody. His hand was constantly fiddling with a silver necklace - a cross with a pair of angel wings behind it - as he listened to his group of friends. He looked at them with one eye, his other hidden by a long clump of brown hair that reached to his shoulders. A smile played on his lips as he listened to the argument at hand.

Gordon was second tallest, a well-muscled man with a small scruff of beard. He was very pushy but was a good friend never the less. James claimed he was taller than Carl, although Carl was adamant they were the same height. James seemed to always have a fedora atop his head, despite the fact his friends didn't think it looked good. Carl always had his head in his phone, either texting his girlfriend or playing games.

The group of four had travelled across by plane from Ohio, Gordon buying each of them tickets for both the plane and the festival, his father being a well-paid football player. It was something they had been looking forward to for a long time.

"It isn't real music!" Gordon contained to argue, throwing his arms around to exaggerate his point. "You got to go with rock or rap or even pop. Classical is so… clinical, so refined. There's no freedom to it!"

"That is not true." James argued back, glaring out from under the brim of his fedora. "Classical gives you more feelings than any of them combined. It doesn't need lyrics to make its point. And besides, I heard Emma Fischer is going to be playing tomorrow, so there's all the more reason to listen to classical."

"Who's Emma Fischer?" Corey asked, leaning back on his hands.

"Of course you won't know who she is, Corey," Gordon smirked. "No one knows the names of classical musicians."

"She is one of the best classical musicians in all of Germany, I'll let you know."

"I'll take your word for it…" Gordon shook his head in pity before looking at Corey. "That doesn't change the fact that we're not going to listen to classical tomorrow, are we, Corey?"

"Don't be so judgemental, Gordon. I mean, I don't usually listen to classical, but we can give it a try. Maybe it'll be good, you never know."

"Oh lord, you too? Why did I choose you two as my friends again?"

"Our good looks?" Corey replied, flicking his hair dramatically.

"Hah! You two are as ugly as sin, so it can't be that." Gordon looked to Carl, whose face was illuminated by his mobile phone. "What about you, Carl?"

It took Carl a few seconds to look up and shrug, his blue eyes flicking down to his screen as he talked. "I don't mind either way. All music is good - just in different ways."

"I can see when I'm outnumbered…" Gordon sighed.

"You do realize that you don't have to come with us, right?" Corey put in, taking a sip of coke.

"And _you _do realize how easy it is to lose each other at festivals, especially one as big as this. I have no desire to run around trying to spot your girly hair in a crowd."

"At least my hair doesn't look like a bird lives in it." Corey shot back, looking pointedly at the mess of hair atop Gordon's head.

"Touché." Gordon took a deep gulp from his bottle and pulled out a small slip of paper, which simply said: Gordon Joseph, Contest Slip. "So, did we all sign up for that contest? I sure did."

Carl glanced sharply up from his phone. "What contest? I didn't see anything like that when we arrived."

"That's 'cause you never pay any attention to your surroundings." James lightly slapped the back of Carl's head. "I did as well. Corey?"

"Mmhmm." Corey nodded, pulling out his own slip.

"Are you going to explain what this contest is, or shall I just remain ignorant?" Carl asked, placing his phone in the top pocket of his shirt, irritation in in voice.

Gordon sighed. "Alright. Eight randomly selected people will get to visit a studio in London on Monday, meet the three headline acts, and hear a song performed in the studio by each of them. They even threw in a free hotel stay for Sunday night."

Carl's eyes widened. "Woah… how the hell did I miss that? I need to sign up for that. I'll do it first thing tomorrow." Carl nodded to himself. "I take it you mean Charlie Walker, Elijah Freemon, and Bridge, right?"

"No, the three _other _headline acts…" Gordon rolled his eyes. "Of course I mean them." He glanced around the small group. "So, let me throw out another question. Which of those three d'you reckon will be the coolest to meet?"

"Bridge." Corey said immediately, grinning widely. "He's a damn straight genius. A literal genius of music. I listen to him all the time back home."

"That's mighty impressive, considering he performed 12 years ago. Are you telling me you listened to him when you were five years old?" James asked with a snort.

"I got his CD's, doofus." Corey replied. "Well, the CD's of the bands he performed with, anyway. He was great at whatever instrument he played. Drums, guitar, bass, singing, whatever it was he was perfect at it. It's a damn shame he disappeared for so long. But why the heck do you think I'm here? I'm here for Bridge's first solo act. It is going to simply be amazing. I really want to meet him. He has to be a cool, laid back guy, like all rock stars are."

"…somebody's in love." Gordon whistled under his breath.

"Hey, the guy's my hero! His music has made me feel better when I was done." Corey protested. "Well then, why did you sign up for the contest, Gordon? Enlighten us."

"Isn't it obvious? If I can get three of the biggest music acts autograph's on one thing, I can sell it online for profit, dudes."

"You are a horrible person…" Carl shook his head.

"And everyone loves me for it." Gordon smiled. "And you, James? Why'd you sign up?"

"Elijah Freemon. The man has a message. I would love to see how he is up close, you know?"

"Come on, the guy is nothing more than a preacher trying to throw his ideas on the rest of us."

"Are you saying you WANT kids to suffer in their homes?" James asked, "because that's his message, to help those that are suffering. You really are a dick."

"Ah, screw you." Gordon flicked a casual middle finger up at James. "He just sounds like a preacher to me."

"You-" James started to argue back but Corey quickly interrupted him.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Corey said, putting his arm out. "You're going to need all that energy for the weekend."

"True. I'm gonna need it for the girls I meet out here." Gordon grinned.

James blinked. "Dude, what about Maddy back home?"

"What happens in England is gonna stay in England. It's just a fling, man, nothing serious."

James sighed. "You… Maddy will kill you if she finds out."

"Well, she's not gonna find out unless one of you guys tell her. And you guys won't. So, it's all good in the neighbourhood. Besides, this festival is all about having fun. And we're all going to have fun at this event now, aren't we? If that means a few girls or maybe a couple'a 'illegal' substances on the side, then so be it."

"You can count me out of your illicit activities." Corey shook his head. "I'm just going to enjoy the music out here, maybe meet some new friends. Someone to replace you, for sure."

"No-one can replace me, don't kid around." Gordon smiled widely. "No one has my charm, my good looks, or my wit."

"Oh yeah, you're sooo witty." Corey shook his head before yawning. "Oh, man. Well, I'm gonna get some sleep. The weekend's gonna be big. I'm probably not going to get any sleep tomorrow, anyway. 'Night."


	4. Woman in Chains

_August 30__th__, Saturday  
><em>_07:58_

"Harder, Eddy, Harder!"

"Mm... Mm… Mm…"

"That's it, right there, that's it, do it, do it!"

The combined sighs of satisfaction filled the trailer as Eddy Cool pulled himself from his girlfriend, Felicity Peters, and stared face up at the ceiling, panting lightly. He turned to look at Felicity whose expression was soft. "I told you that would wake you up for today."

"It sure did." Eddy ran a hand through his light blonde hair, the sweat slicking it backwards. "Best wakeup call bar none, I'd say."

Felicity snaked her hand around Eddy's bare chest and pulled her naked body closer to him. "What's the plan?"

"The plan is I'm gonna have to force myself to get up from this bed and not fuck you all over again." Eddy flashed a bright smile and sat up, swinging his legs from the bed. "Then I need to talk to my kids and then we'll be heading out to the Pyramid. I got to let two-hundred thousand strong hear my voice." Standing up, Eddy walked over to the bathroom door, leaving it open as he turned the shower on. He raised his voice over the sound of water hitting bare skin. "I don't think you've seen my kids, have you?"

"You never talk about them." Felicity replied, standing up from the bed herself and stretching her arms up high. She walked over to the bathroom and joined Eddy in the shower, curling her arms around his stomach.

"I must have at least talked about them."

"Nope."

"Well, I wanted to introduce them to you anyway. I don't want you to be a stranger who accompanies their daddy."

"I'd love to." Placing her chin on his shoulder, Felicity trailed it across his chest. "Are you going to tell me the story about your wife?"

"Ex-wife. And I will, don't worry. It's just something private and I want to make sure what we have is real."

"It _is _real, Eddy. I love you."

"I know, I know. I love you too, Felicity, but I simply can't just devote my past to someone I've known for three months, no matter who they are." Eddy lightly pulled Felicity in front of him, holding her wrists lightly. Water poured through her hair, curving past her cheeks and dripping off her chin. "You understand, don't you?"

"I do. I'm not going to force you." Felicity nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddy looked at Felicity with another soft smile and let go of her hands. "Thank you." He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. "Now, you are really tempting me, you know that?"

"Nothing wrong with a bit of temptation… besides, you don't have to leave for another hour anyway… and since we're in here, we won't have to shower again."

"Peer pressure is a bad thing, Ms. Peters."

"Not when it leads to pleasure." Felicity lowered her hand downward, her fingers lightly circling his belly-button and down past his waist. Eddy closed his eyes with a soft groan as Felicity started stroking.

"You… make a compelling… argument… Mmm…"

* * *

><p>Pulling on a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, Eddy noticed the look of Felicity, who herself was dressed in jeans with a black t-shirt with the words 'Pantheon' written across it, one of the bands that were performing at the For the People festival. "What?"<p>

"You're not wearing that today, are you?"

"Only until I get to the dressing room, don't worry. Diana'll be dressing me up when I get there." Eddy sat down on a sofa in front of his large TV. He had set everything up for a video call to his children. "Come on, sit down." Eddy patted next to him. Felicity hesitated a moment, something Eddy didn't miss. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't want to feel like I'm intruding." Felicity said quietly.

"Intruding? You won't be intruding, don't be-"

"But these are your kids, there used to your wife, not-"

"My ex-wife did not care for them." Eddy said quietly, his voice completely changed from his usual cheery demeanour. "They never knew her…" Eddy quickly shook his head, a smile back on his face. "Anyway, they'll be glad to see you, I promise."

"Okay…" Felicity took a breath and sat down next to Eddy just as he clicked the call button for the program. A few seconds later, the screen appeared, showing an old-styled sofa with dark colors. Sitting on the floor with her back against it was Rose, his young twelve year old. Sitting on the right side of the sofa was Aiden, a fifteen year-old with a mop of black hair. Sitting next to Aiden was the oldest of Eddy's children, Isabella. At twenty-one, she had acted as the mother figure for her siblings.

"Hey kids. Can you hear me?"

"It's working, we can hear you." Isabella responded, her eyes already narrowed in curiosity at Felicity.

"Hey dad." Aiden said, his voice scratchy but a smile was on his face, almost a mirror image of Eddy's own. Rose gave a little wave, obviously shy in front of the stranger in Felicity.

"Are you being taken care of by your big sister?" Eddy asked.

"I make 'em get to school on time, dad, don't worry. Speaking of which, they're going to have to leave soon. Why didn't you wait until after school?" Isabella asked.

"Sorry, Izzy, you know I'm gonna be busy all weekend. I just wanted to check in with you and also, well, also introduce Felicity. Kids… this is my girlfriend."

Isabella's eyes widened slightly in surprise, while Aiden seemed concerned and Rose not really affected. It took a moment for Isabella to regain her composure. "G-Girlfriend?"

"Yes." Eddy nodded. He had not been looking forward to this moment but he knew he had to introduce Felicity sooner than later. Aiden and Rose would be fine, but Isabella… she was old enough to know what went on with her mother. Eddy watched her face, before it finally lit up with a smile.

"That's great, dad. That's really wonderful. Hello Felicity, I hope my dad's treating you well."

"He's a real gentleman." Felicity replied with a nervous smile.

Aiden snorted. "Dad's never been a gentleman. You can tell the truth, we know how sloppy he can be."

"Hey hey now, no embarrassing me in front of Felicity now, guys, okay?" Eddy chuckled, he leaned forward with a playful whisper. "I'm trying to impress her."

"How long have you been together?" Isabella asked, crossing her arms. Eddy could see her checking Felicity out, trying to spot any fault in her.

"Going on three months now. I'm sorry I kept it a secret."

"You don't need to apologize." Isabella said firmly. "As long as you're happy, dad." She glanced at something off camera. "Well, I got to take these guys to school. Have fun at the Festival dad. Take some pictures for me. Oh, and see if you can get an autograph of Elijah Freemon to give to Rose, she has a little crush on him."

"I-I-Izzy!" Rose's face turned beet-red as Isabella laughed.

"Hah, get one for me while you're at it, won't you?"

"Sure will."

"Cool. Well dad, we'll see you on Monday. Bring Felicity over, we can introduce ourselves probably."

"I'd like that." Felicity put in.

"Alright then. Have fun at school, guys. Bye." With a wave, Eddy ended the call and leaned back with a sigh of relief. "Oh man, I'm so glad they like you…"

"They're nice kids."

"They sure are. Well then, we ought to get going. Got a big weekend ready for us."

Felicity nodded, standing up and headed for the door. With her not looking, Eddy quickly reached under the sofa and pulled out a small box, slipping it into his pocket. He followed behind Felicity, a big grin on his face.

* * *

><p><em>10:00<em>

"Welcome, one and all, to the For the People festival!" The voice rang out over the Pyramid stadium, throwing itself out over the massive sea of people in front of it. At the sound of that voice, the crowd erupted into cheers, hands waving in the early morning air, ignoring the light drizzle dripping from the sky. One of these many, many people was Ruby Ascot, cheering as loud as the best of them, her curly pink hair sticking out like a sore thumb. Along with the thousands of people in front of the Pyramid Stage, she watched as the host, Eddy Cool, jogged onto the stage, hair slicked back and dressed in a sparkly black suit. He slid to the front of the stage, a wide smile on his face.

"I said… welcome! Let me hear your voices!" He roared out. The crowd responded wildly, ready for a day of music. "Over the weekend we are gonna have a massive amount of stars performing on this stage and the last couple of days have featured a number of amateur acts on the various stages around here. Some talented amateurs are going to be performing on this pyramid stage as well as the professionals we all know and love. Let me throw a couple of names out there. Charlie Walker!" The crowd cheered again, deafeningly loud. "Elijah Freemon!" Once again the crowd cheered, louder even than Charlie Walker's reaction. "And the long-awaited return of the man known as Bridge!" This time the cheers were the loudest, every single person in the 200,000 strong crowd cheering Bridge's name. Eddy waited a moment before speaking back into the microphone. "Let me introduce myself. I am going to be your host - although this is the only time you're probably going to pay attention to me. My name is Eddy Cool and yes, that is my real name. I don't want to take up much of your time, but I am obliged to remind you that the deadline for the contest is twelve o'clock this afternoon, so if you want to meet the headline acts and and hear their unique songs, you better get going!"

Ruby shouted into the crowd, her voice falling on ignored ears, "I got one! I got one!" She waved her ticket in the air, giddy with excitement. This festival was something she had been looking forward to for a long time. She had saved up money for the flight over as well as the festival tickets themselves. She would love to meet the headline acts, to get their autographs, to make this trip even better than it already was.

"Enough of me!" Eddy said, walking backwards. "Let us hear it for the first act of the weekend on the Pyramid, the pop-rock band Pantheon!"

Ruby cheered loudly again with the crowd. The Pantheon were one of her favorite acts performing at the festival, known for their upbeat songs. She raised her arm to cheer when she felt her fist impact something softly. Her head quickly snapped to her side where a woman crumpled to the floor.

"Oh God, I'm-" Ruby started before noticing a small stream of blood leak from the woman's nose. Ruby blinked for a moment, before her legs collapsed from under her and darkness overtook her eyes.

* * *

><p>Blinking away the blackness, Ruby sat up straight, wondering why her head was hurting. Looking around briefly she noticed she was in some kind of medical area. She could hear the buzz of the crowd and pulses of music outside the walls, loud even in the building.<p>

"You hit hard, you know that?"

Ruby looked to the bed next to her where the woman she had accidentally struck was sitting up, her nose swollen slightly. She was pretty, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. The beauty was only marred by a scar on her lip, a blotch on her otherwise smooth face. Ruby rubbed the back of her head, smiling sheepishly. "Oh boy, I'm sorry… I should've looked where I was moving my arms."

"Don't worry about it. It's only a fracture." The woman extended her hand across the aisle to Ruby's bed. "Sabrina Holland."

Ruby grasped the hand. "Ruby Ascot. Are you sure you're alright?"

Sabrina shrugged. "I've had worse." Her finger quickly brushed the scar on her lip before she smiled. "You don't like the sight of blood?"

"No… I never did. I guess I fainted, huh. Blood just freaks me out, y'know?"

"I understand. I've known others who didn't like blood."

"This is a great way to spend the morning of the first proper day of the festival." Ruby laughed out loud, leaning back on her bed. "I bet I missed Pantheon performing and all."

"I'm sorry." Sabrina shrugged. "Were they who you were most looking forward to?"

"Oh, don't you apologize. I like their music but it's not the biggest of deals. Besides, this is more exciting, isn't it? Nothing like meeting someone you nearly broke the nose of."

"That's one way of looking at it, I guess." Sabrina crossed her arms. "I've been told to stay here for another hour or so to make sure I don't get any headaches. You can probably leave whenever you want to, after checking in with the nurse."

"Nah. I caused that, it's the least I can do to stay here. You don't mind, do you?"

Sabrina shook her head. "I'd welcome the company." Sabrina blinked as Ruby pushed herself up from the bed and sat down on Sabrina's own. "You are… American, aren't you?"

"That's right. I came on down from Baltimore. Technically I got a bit of Spanish in me, but I've never been to Spain so I don't think that counts. Are you English?"

"Yep. No special blood in me, just pure English." Sabrina replied.

"Hey, what's up with your scar, by the way?" Ruby asked, pointing to Sabrina's lip.

"That's a bit straightforward." Sabrina frowned slightly. "We've just met and you're already asking personal questions."

"I don't mean anything by it; it's just interesting, is all. Usually people would use make-up to cover it."

Sabrina sighed, stroking the scar. "Covering this would be covering my past. This scar serves as a reminder of what I've done…" Sabrina trailed off, her eyes unfocused.

"You alright?" Ruby asked, nudging Sabrina. Sabrina quickly blinked.

"I'm fine, sorry. Maybe I'm still woozy from your errant punch. You want to see a cooler scar?" Sabrina grinned as she leaned downwards, pulling her left trouser leg up, revealing a jagged scar about four inches long. "It's too bad I can't show this one off."

"You could wear shorts." Ruby suggested, inspecting the scar. "What happened? Are both scars from the same incident?"

"Yes… Luckily I wasn't injured too seriously." Rolling the trouser leg back down, Sabrina looked pointedly at Ruby. "Well, I've let you see my scars. Do you have any you can show me?"

"I got one on my butt but you probably don't want to see that one." Ruby giggled. "Otherwise, I don't have anything like that."

"What about your hair, then? Why did you dye it pink?"

"Why not? It's a pretty colour so why _not _have it pink?"

"I guess I can't argue with that reasoning." Sabrina replied, amused. "But even so, it can't just be because it's a pretty colour."

"It's a symbol of freedom." Ruby said. "I don't care what society thinks of me. I don't lie to myself, I simply _be _myself. If that means pink hair, then so be it. So many people get shackled down by opinions. I think you understand that yourself, since you don't cover up that scar."

"Freedom is a nice thing…" Sabrina sighed. "But I'm not free… even though I don't have to worry anymore about that… I'll never be free…"

"Of course you can be free." Ruby said confidently. "Anyone can be free if they so desire it."

"You don't understand, that just doesn't work for me." Sabrina said quietly.

Ruby reached over and grabbed her hands, staring her in the eyes. "Don't be so down on yourself, Sabrina. No matter what shackles you down, you can slip out of them."

Sabrina pulled her hands away, eyes dark. "Some shackles are too tight to slip out of, Ruby. The more you try to pull yourself out of them, the tighter they get. The freedom you seem to have… that just isn't an option."


	5. You and Me

_13:45_

Lily Talbot pressed her back against the front of the van, keeping one ear towards the voices.

"I haven't seen him at all; he never comes out of his room."

"What does he do about food?"

"Calls on room service, I expect. I almost believe that he isn't even here and he's gonna stand us all up."

"Don't be stupid. Bridge doesn't break promises, that much I know."

"He disappeared for twelve years, Eddy, doesn't that tell you how reliable he is?"

"He never said he wouldn't disappear, John. Trust me, he'll perform when his time comes, I promise you."

"I hope your right. We'll probably get a riot if he doesn't perform, and get sued for false advertising to top it off."

"It won't come to that. I gotta go. Don't worry, John, it'll be fine."

At the sound of footsteps coming closer to her position, Lily quickly moved between the van and the wall, watching the host, Eddy Cool, walk away. Walking through the gap between the van and the wall, Lily saw the other man, John, push open a back door into the Pyramid backrooms. As soon as he disappeared, Lily lunged forward with practiced steps, light as a leaf, her fingers pushing the door just before it closed behind John. She waited a few seconds, the door barely open to let John disappear, before pushing it open. Allowing it to shut behind her, Lily walked down the empty corridor, her footsteps quiet.

She turned a number of corridors but quickly doubled back when she heard more footsteps. She slipped through a nearby bathroom door and put her ear to the door. The footsteps headed straight for her. With a smile of exhilaration, Lily waited a few seconds for the door to open. As soon as it started moving, she slid behind the door, watching another man head towards a stall. Without touching the door, she slithered through, the door shutting softly behind her. Continuing on through the corridors, she kept looking at the nameplates outside the doors. Only the most famous musical acts got their own rooms and Lily was looking for a specific nameplate.

"You gotta do what you gotta do, y'know?"

At the sound of the voices coming towards her, Lily smoothly changed her stature, standing as tall as her 5'6" frame would allow her. She strode forward as if with a purpose, right past the two men. She greeted them with a curt nod, looking as if she ought to be there. The two men didn't even give her vibrant appearance a second look. A pair of heavy black boots reaching up to her knees under a red tartan skirt held at her waist with a black leather belt adorned with metal plates. A black t-shirt was strategically ripped to show a white t-shirt underneath, both cut her to show off a toned stomach. Over this all she wore a denim jacket with an eagle emblazoned on the back with black imitation-diamond. Her hair was braided and pushed back over her head, hanging down to her shoulders; each braid had colored wires snaking their way up to her forehead, all of them different colors. As they disappeared behind her, Lily had to resist the urge to laugh. Make yourself seem like one of a group, no one would look twice. It was almost too easy to sneak in the Pyramid.

Another minute and she had finally arrived at her destination, a lone door labelled 'Bridge'. She grasped the handle and tried to open the door silently, but was simply met with a 'click'. The door was locked.

"Of course it is…" Lily muttered. Without waiting any more at the door she worked her way through the corridors until she could see the busy backstage area working tirelessly to make sure everything was in order. Eddy Cool was standing with his back to her, talking on his phone trying to get away from the action.

"After I come back from the contest tour, I wanna take you to dinner, okay? Something special, something nice… can't I treat you sometimes? Heh, thanks. It won't be too expensive, don't worry, and I'll pay for it anyway."

As Eddy chatted away on his phone, Lily crept forward, two fingers extended in front of her. She slipped them into his pocket and fished out a bunch of keys, Eddy none the wiser. The clinking was lost over the sound of the current band performing on the stage. Keys in hand, Lily headed back for Bridge's room. It didn't take long to find the right key and the door clicked open. She slid the keys back into her pocket and opened the door to Bridge's room, sneaking quietly in.

The room was bare unlike other musician's rooms she had seen. The only thing that had been used was the desk and mirror. His instruments must have been stored somewhere else. However, Bridge was nowhere to be seen. Hearing the door shut behind her, Lily frowned. "Now where _are_ you?" She muttered, putting her hands on her hips. All that effort to get in here and he wasn't even present?

"You just keep on following me, don't you?"

At the sound of that smooth voice, Lily nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning around she found Bridge standing straight where the door would have hidden him. Bridge peered down from above at Lily. Lily was always impressed with how tall he was. It was as if he had once been stretched in a torture rack standing at 7'2". He legs and arms were long and lanky, his whole frame thin and covered in dark clothing. He wore skin-tight leather trousers, tucked into knee high leather boots that had thick soles which boosted him even higher than his naturally tall height. Three different chains hung from his belt, each a different length and each with a different metal design on them - a metal fang, a cross-hair and a miniature sword. Underneath a long leather duster coat he wore a tight leather vest, fastened with metal clasps. He reached out with a hand, covered in fingerless leather gloves complete with metal plates on the back of the gloves, and placed it on Lily's shoulder.

"So you follow me, even from Japan?"

Lily grinned wide. "That's right. You look really different from when I last saw you, Gerald."

"Do _not _call me that." Bridge growled, his eyes narrowing. To anyone other than Lily, Gerald's face would have scared them senseless, but Lily thought it was just cool. He wore red snake-eye contacts on his eyes with black hair swept behind his head and tucked behind his ears, framing his thin, sharp face. The only hair which covered his face were three separate braids on the left side of his face. One reached his eye, another at his mouth, and the third touched his collar bone. Each had beads on the end - the shortest with three, the middle had five, and the longest had seven.

"Why not, Gerald? It's a great name for you, don't you think?" Lily shrugged off his hand and skipped over to the wheeled wooden chair next to the desk and sat down, spinning around. "It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone. Besides, it's you who spilled those beans. I just thought you looked like a Gerald."

"That's what you say. I want to know how you really knew."

"It's not a conspiracy, Gerald, geez."

"You need to leave. I am not one to chat."

"You're chatting just fine, aren't you? I'm sure you appreciate a tiny bit of company."

"Not from the likes of you."

"Don't be like that. Are you gonna call security? I'd like to see that, the oh so mighty Bridge calling on goons like that." Lily grinned, continuously spinning around on the chair.

"I'll get you out myself." Bridge stepped forward, reaching for her but she just pushed off the chair, escaping his reach. "Stop playing around."

"I'm just sitting down, you're the one playin' around. Not that I mind, mind you. Soooo… what're you playing tonight? Tarento O Motteumareta? Wairudo? Or something a little less Japanese?"

"Do I look like I going to perform Japanese Pop?" Bridge said then narrowed his eyes again. "Now leave before I make you."

"You couldn't make me if you tried. And what is up with that getup, anyway? Are you going Emo on me, Gerald? Are you having emotional problems? I can help… probably."

"That's it. You need to leave." Bridge reached for Lily, but Lily just leaped off her chair, ducked under his arms and leant against the wall. Bridge turned around, anger clear on his face. "You need to stop this and get the hell out of here."

Lily just laughed. "For a supposed genius you get awfully hot-headed, don't you?"

"You are the only person who can annoy me like this." Bridge grated his teeth together and opened his mouth just as a knock on the door echoed out.

"Bridge? It's Eddy. I was just making sure you're still okay with being there for the contest reward?"

"Sure he is!" Lily called out with a smile. Bridge twitched slightly. He didn't need people to think he was holing up in his room with a girl.

"Wha… who's that? You know you're not allowed visitors without prior approval, Bridge."

Bridge crossed his arms. "Come and take her away, Eddy. She intruding on the premises."

The door opened and Eddy looked from Lily to Bridge.

"Don't listen to him, Eddy, he's just being shy. I'm his daughter!"

"What?" Both Bridge and Eddy looked at Lily, both taken aback. Taking the chance, Lily sprinted past Eddy, slamming the door behind them. Both heard the click of the door locking. Eddy quickly reached into his pocket and blanched. "My keys! She stole my keys!" Eddy tested the door but found it was indeed locked. "Son of a-…"

"Out of the way."

Eddy moved just in time as Bridge slammed his foot into the door, ripping it open. Bridge stepped outside, looking left and right down the hallway, but Lily was nowhere to be seen.

"You can't do that! That's gonna cost me-"

"I want you to find her." Bridge snapped, glaring down at Eddy. Eddy gulped and nodded.

"I'll get security right on it."

* * *

><p><em>14:00<em>

Backstage behind the massive black curtain which cut the main stage from backstage, Adam Collins was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. A guitar was slung over his shoulder and he was trying to resist the urge to pace back and forth.

"Calm down." A hand touched his arm lightly. Adam looked to his girlfriend, trying to smile but his nerves made the smile come out awkwardly. Zoe Montgomery was, to be frank, a sexy woman and she played up to her strengths. Her blonde hair had taken almost thirty minutes of perfect brushing to get it the way it was and she wore deliberately teasing clothes - a t-shirt with a V-neck just low enough to taunt an inquisitive eye and jeans which hung on her hips, as if ready to fall with the slightest movement.

When people saw her, they would not expect her to be dating a young man like Adam. Where she was hot, he was out of shape and chubby. His black hair stuck to his forehead when he was sweating and he was shorter than the average English male, standing at 5' 2". A lot of people assumed he was a 'placeholder'. Somebody to impress Zoe's parents while she fucked around. Adam claimed that wasn't true, that she was attracted to his personality and his musical talent. Although if he was honest, he didn't know how Zoe felt. He loved her enough not to presume what she thought and could never answer for her.

"It's hard to be calm." Adam breathed out, his hands fiddling with a loose strand on his t-shirt. "There's nearly 200,000 people out there… granted, not everyone who is at the Festival is watching at the moment… but that is still more people than I ever imagined to perform to. I've been to hundreds of gigs but…"

"This is necessary if you want to be on top, Adam." Zoe moved her hand on his arm, stroking him to ease his nerves. "You can't just hang around and perform in small clubs with barely 100 people. You got to take this step."

"I know… it's just one hell of a step is all."

"Just remember that I'm watching you, all right? I know you won't screw this up… you love music, Adam, just channel that, okay?"

"Mmm hmm. I know… I know. I think it's the build-up that is making me nervous. I think I'll be okay once I actually get out there… but I gotta say, a lot of these people are bands… all I got is my guitar and my voice-"

"And that's what makes people listen to you and your lyrics. You make your songs mean something." Zoe slipped her hand in his, squeezing tightly. "They're special. Besides, you have some kind of secret song you won't tell me about."

Adam smiled, looking up at the girders high above. "I gotta say, that's making me more nervous. This'll be the first time I perform this song in front of an audience. It's too bad rookies like me can only perform one song - otherwise I'd get comfortable with songs I know work. This could go horribly."

"It won't. If you need to, close your eyes. Make sure you concentrate on your music alone, alright?"

"Yeah… I need to make sure I do well. This is my chance… to become a pro… to become like Elijah Freemon or Charlie Walker… to headline events." Adam wiped his forehead. "This is my dream… I just gotta make this a reality…"

Zoe put her hands on Adam's cheeks, pulling his face close to hers. She leaned forward, pecking his lips and stared into his eyes. "It's going to be a reality, I promise you. With this many people watching, someone is going to see that talent you have. The For the People festival is common grounds for record labels looking for new talent."

"It's a shame I don't look like a star…" Adam shook his head slightly. He didn't concentrate on his appearance but he knew that there were many others performing that day and the day after who looked much more like your typical star.

"That's a blessing in disguise. They'll be focusing on your voice, not your looks."

"Adam Collins?" A man with a clipboard called out. Adam took a deep breath and kissed Zoe one last time.

"You get 'em, tiger, alright?"

"…will do." Adam swung the guitar around his front and walked to the curtains. He stopped for a second before pushing the curtains open.

A torrent of sound hit him all at once. The cheers were like an earthquake and he could swear he could feel the very stage beneath him moving - or that may have just been his nerves. They weren't cheering directly for him, they were cheering in general for more music. People who performed on the Pyramid Stage weren't known to disappoint and Adam didn't want to be the first to completely screw up and lose the crowd's respect. The crowd itself was a sea of multi-coloured blobs, bobbing up and down. He put on his best smile and approached the microphone that was set out for him in the middle of the stage.

"H-Hello." He called out. The crowd went quiet, certainly not silent, but only an expectant rumble. They were probably interested in this chubby, small young man coming out in front of them with only a guitar. "My name is Adam Collins, but you probably don't care for names. You want to hear music and that's what I'm here for. It's been two years since I met my girlfriend… and I know it's sappy but I wanna dedicate this song to her. This one's for you, Zoe." Adam took a deep breath and started strumming on his guitar, building up the music note by note. He played well and the crowd knew it. Adam leaned closer to the microphone, and started to sing.

* * *

><p>He let the last note linger out of his throat, deep and resonating into the crowd. A final strum of his guitar, and Adam pulled back, wiping his forehead. It was as he thought. As soon as he started singing, the nerves were wiped away. He was in his world, playing his music. As the last guitar note burned out, the crowd erupted into cheers. He stood there, soaking in the cheers, feeling the happiest he had ever felt in his life. It was hard to move backwards, to head back through the curtain, to let that crowd go. But he got a taste of the high life. He wanted to perform in front of a crowd like that again, wanted to let them hear his music.<p>

"That was brilliant!" Zoe came from out of nowhere, jumping on him with a hug. Adam stumbled backwards but managed to keep on his feet, unable to hide the giant grin on his face. Zoe kissed him hard on the lips, fingers scraping into his back. Adam had to pull away to break the passionate kiss and Zoe hopped back down, crossing her arms. "I'm impressed, Adam Collins. I've never heard you sing like that, even on your best days. We are going to have to celebrate."

"Good job, kid." Adam turned to see Eddy Cool extending his hand. Adam shook it.

"Thanks… that was… amazing."

"First time in front of a crowd that big, huh. I know what that feels like. It makes an impression, doesn't it?"

"Definitely… I just want to perform for a crowd like that again. I need to."

"Hahah. Well, after that performance, I'm sure you're gonna be contacted soon. You got a future ahead of you, Adam, I'm sure of it." Eddy ran a hand through his hair. "Good job." He left through the curtain, to introduce the next act.

"You hear that, Adam? You got a future ahead of you." Zoe grabbed his hand, pulling him along. She was grinning almost as widely as Adam. "And dedicating that song to me? I'm not sure I've ever loved you more than this moment."

"As you said before, I make my lyrics mean something. And I think the meaning was quite clear with that one. I love you too, Zoe. I sure as hell love you too."


	6. Welcome to the Black Parade

_August 30__th__, Saturday_

_14:50_

As her arm moved swiftly back and forth and her fingers pressed on the strings rapidly, Emma Fischer was back home in Zwiesel, Germany. It was winter, the cold harsh and unforgiving, but her home warm with the great roaring fire in the living room. She sat by the fireplace on a stool, cello in hand, playing to herself with no ears but her own to take in her music. Her parents didn't care for her choice in music but for Emma the choice was clear - classical was to be her journey. The thoughts of playing by herself in her home fluttered through her head as she sat alone on the 'Field of Avalon', one of many stages at the For the People Festival.

This was the first time since then that she had played by herself, not in another orchestra, but by herself with her own music and her own tune. It was something that crept into her very soul. The crowd wasn't in front her, the stage wasn't under her feet, she was by herself by her fire, simply playing as best as her talent allowed.

As she finished her final notes, she opened her eyes and once more she looked into the crowd, drawn back to reality. The crowd wasn't very big, but there were enough people present for the cheers to be loud. Emma smiled. It wasn't just rock and pop that was popular at the For the People Festival. No, all music was welcome and all music had their place. It was hard nowadays to find places to perform classical live other than operas or orchestral showings.

Standing up, her cello propped against her leg, Emma bent at the waist for a bow. She was neither one for curtsy's nor words. With that bow, she moved off the stage, ready for other classical musicians to play after her. A stage-hand quickly rushed on the stage and picked up the cello before disappearing back behind the curtain. Backstage, Emma walked silently past the activity in the back. She didn't need or want congratulations. She was satisfied with her performance - and that was all that mattered. The crowd enjoyed it and she enjoyed it. She grabbed her cello - now placed back in its case - from the stagehand and carried it off out all the way to her camping van ten minutes away.

Reaching her sky blue van, Emma placed the cello down and looked up to the sky. The rain was starting to fall in patters again. It was raining before her performance as well. It was if the sky itself listened to her music, stopping all activity. Ducking into the van she quickly changed out of the black dress she had worn just for the performance and back into her usual combination of white-washed jeans and a cream sweater. Tucking the dress back into the small closet, she perched herself on the edge of the long seat that extended its way across the back of the van and laced her fingers together.

Today was a good day. She had been able to perform four complete songs. She had hoped for more time, but there were a surprising amount of classical performers. At least four songs was better than just one, like many of the others had to settle with. But now she was done. She had spent a lot of money coming here and just like that, she would be leaving. She had booked a plane for Monday, back to her home in Zwiesel.

"No…" Emma frowned to herself, looking out of her window. She was in a caravan and camping van only zone but that didn't mean it wasn't bustling with activity. It was lunch time for many people - families, groups of friends, or just couples - and they were sitting around their vans, laughing, talking, eating, being happy. Emma liked it here. It was… free. Maybe she'd put off the flight back home. She could just travel around England for a while, maybe head up to Scotland or northwest to Wales. She had enough money for fuel and food, it could be fun.

Fun… Emma shook her head. That was a word that didn't often come to her mind. She didn't have friends to have fun with. She didn't go to clubs or hang out at bars. She kept to herself, with only her music as her friend. Her 'fun' was playing her cello. Perhaps it would be good to look for fun outside of her music. Traveling might just be what she needed.

A knock on the door caused Emma to jump slightly. She wasn't expecting anyone and no-one simply just visited her. Maybe it was some kind of fan who wanted her autograph - although the For the People festival was about music, not the musicians. Wondering who could be at her door, Emma stood up and opened the door, revealing the blonde Eddy Cool. His sequined jacket slung over his shoulder revealing a simple white shirt. He was smiling as he always did on stage. He put out his hand to shake.

"Miss Fischer."

"Mr… Cool." Emma blinked, surprised.

"May I come in?"

Emma quickly glanced behind her. "I think it would be better to talk… outside. It would be… cramped in here." She talked slowly and deliberately, making sure her thick German accent didn't disguise what she was trying to say. Her English was not the best by any means. She had never been to England itself but had been to America only four times.

"That's fine with me." Eddy placed his jacket on the grass and sat down, one leg stretched out in front of him, ignoring the rain completely. In many ways, Eddy was just like the fans that visited the Festival. He wasn't afraid to mingle and get to know random strangers. Emma hesitantly sat on the edge of the car, through the open door.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was watching your performance out on the Avalon. Great work, by the way, gripping stuff. In fact, it's your music I want to talk about."

"I do not want any kind of offer to sign up… for anything, Mr. Cool." Emma said, crossing her arms.

"No, no, no, I'm not asking that, don't worry." Eddy rubbed the back of his head. "This is… something more of a personal nature."

"Oh?"

"You see…" Eddy took a breath before beaming up at Emma. "On Tuesday, I'm going to propose to my girlfriend. I'm going to be taking her to an expensive restaurant. I want to make it special. And as it so happens, she is a big fan of classical - in fact, she has told me about you on a number of occasions. One of the biggest - if not _the _biggest - classical act in Germany. I would love for you to be able to perform something in the background at the restaurant. Something to surprise her with before the big question."

Emma was taken aback. Perform for a proposal? She had to admit, it did sound romantic.

"Money is not a problem. I'll pay what needs to be paid. I just want to make the day as special and memorable as I possibly can." Eddy was scanning Emma's face, trying to discern what her answer would be. "If you can't, I'll understand, of course you must be busy-"

"Okay." Emma interrupted, smiling. "That sounds interesting. I think I would like to please your girlfriend like that."

Eddy's eyes widened with happiness. "That's brilliant! Thank you, it means a lot to me. So, would kind of money are we looking at?"

"None."

"None?"

"None." Emma repeated firmly. "I do not need money. Happiness… does not need to cost a thing. If you tell me the when and where, I will be happy to… perform."

"I… I can't just not repay you…"

"Yes you can."

"No, that just doesn't sit well with me. You won't accept money?"

"No."

Eddy pursed his lips. "Well… what about a free ticket for the hotel stay and studio tour tomorrow and Monday?"

"Is that not part of that contest? Is there not a random draw?"

"You wouldn't be part of the group that gets chosen. It was just be a… payment, for helping me with this. What do you say? You'll get to meet three of the biggest musical talents in England as well as staying at a top quality hotel. I expect you don't go to really fancy hotels much, considering money doesn't seem to be much of a factor in your career."

Emma thought for a second. Just like that, she was given a chance to have some fun outside of her cello. Her answer seemed obvious to her. "Yes… I think I would like that. I would like that very much."

* * *

><p><em>August 31<em>_st__, Sunday_

_03:32_

Adam Treeland sat at the base of a lone tree, the light of his phone illuminating his face, reflecting off his glasses. His teeth were gritted and his fist was clenching as his watched the video on his phone. A video that had been filmed three weeks before.

It was footage from a video camera, showing the back of Adam himself. He was outside of a bar, looking at his phone much like how he was watching the footage now. The man with the video camera filmed two other men on either side of him. Both of them wore black clothes, with a black hoody disguising their faces. One put their thumb up before pointing at Adam's back. The other one cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Hey, fairy!"

Adam turned just in time to be hit hard in the face. The force sent him sprawling to the floor, one of the lenses of his glasses breaking. Before he even had time to catch his breath, the man that hit him drove his foot hard into Adam's chest, knocking him down onto the alley floor. He stomped hard a couple of times. Watching the footage, Adam couldn't help but feel his ribs that were broken in the attack. The other man crouched over him.

"We don't like your kind around here, fairy. You're screwing up our children and ruining the way things are." The man kicked Adam in the groin, hard. Then both men started kicking. Adam watched himself curl into a ball, trying to avoid the worst of the kicks but they still caught him in the face and the neck and the ribs. It went on for a full five minutes before there was a shout from the other end of the alley.

"Shit!" The man with the video camera said, calling out to his friends. "Let's get the fuck outta here!" With that, the video stopped.

Adam stared at the screen, his fist squeezing hard. He had been sent the video the moment he got out of the hospital, with a text reading:- "Get the fuck out of town before we do worse, fairy."

The injuries had been bad. Bruises all over his body, a couple of broken fingers, three broken ribs, a good amount of cuts with one being so bad that it had to be stitched up. His arm had gotten a fracture and he was now missing four teeth.

Adam had to try as hard as he could not to cry. He had been watching the video over and over again ever since he got it. He had come to the festival to try and take his mind off them but it just couldn't work. No matter who he listened to it just didn't work. He felt more and more miserable the more the days passed. He couldn't go back home, he couldn't risk any more attacks. That was the one good thing at the festival. He was safe. If only it went on forever then he wouldn't have to go back, wouldn't have to suffer the discrimination of being gay.

He wasn't one of those people who claimed that he didn't have a choice. He did choose. He found comfort more in the arms of men than in the arms of women. He felt happy and excited around men while women made him simply uncomfortable. This was his life, he wanted to live it. But these homophobic men just refused to let him be. They wanted to ruin his life… they wanted to end it. He had gone to the police but they didn't help. No-one helped. Only Nathan helped. But Nathan wasn't here anymore.

"Damn…" Adam squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't prevent these goddamn emotions. Sometimes he wanted to just get rid of them. Sometimes he wanted to just die… but suicide, suicide just wasn't the answer. Nathan wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, you alright?"

At the voice Adam jumped, scrambling to his feet. He looked at the female standing in front of him, clad completely in black. She only thing that wasn't black was her extremely pale skin, standing out like a ghost in the night. She had thick eyeliner and even had black piercings, one on each ear and a left eyebrow piercing.

"I'm fine!" Adam said defensively, hoping she couldn't see his cheeks were wet. What the hell was someone doing here? It was a field just off the festival grounds and it was three in the morning.

"No… you're not." The woman shook her head. "That video… was that you… on the receiving end?"

"You watched?" Adam scratched at his arm. "Why did you watch?"

"I'm sorry… I just caught it. But… was that you?"

"…yes…"

The woman stared at him for a good ten seconds, enough to make him feel more uncomfortable than he was already feeling. "Are you gay?" She finally asked.

"Yes." Adam responded instantly. He wasn't afraid to say it. He wasn't defensive about it, nor angry at the question. It was just somebody asking him if his name was Adam.

"I thought so." The woman sighed. There was a faint Australian accent in her speech. "Was it bad?"

"Who are you?" Adam asked, hating this conversation. He wasn't rude enough to simply walk away though.

"Oh… sorry… my name is Jacey Rae Callibaster." Jacey's face seemed to always be in a frown, her eyes seemingly constantly downcast.

"Can you… please go? I don't really want to talk to anyone at the moment…"

"You're not like other gay men I've met." Jacey said quietly. This took Adam by surprise.

"What do you mean by that?"

"A lot of gay men dress up in bright clothes and have a bubbly personality. Not you… you're just… normal."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. No, it's actually refreshing. Sometimes I feel those type of gay people are trying too hard, somehow. You just seem… real…"

"Hah… real? Real enough to get beaten the crap out of." Adam shook his head. "Sorry… please, just… I don't want to talk."

"I told you my name. What's yours?"

"…Adam. Adam Treeland."

"Tree-Land?"

"No…" Adam sighed. "It's pronounced Tril-Lan."

"Oh. Treeland." She let the pronunciation roll off her tongue. "Why are you up so early in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"I don't sleep at night." Jacey said matter of factly as if it were something that wasn't strange at all.

"Huh." Adam didn't question this peculiarity. "So… why did you come over here?"

"I saw that video… I didn't mean to watch but… well, it just happened… and I wanted to talk to you. You seemed sad."

"Angry. Sad. Depressed. It's all the same thing."

"I'm not the most social person in the world… in fact, I have no friends that I can meet face-to-face. But something about you made me want to comfort. Not all is bad in the world, Adam Treeland."

"Most of it though. A world where people can't accept being homosexual is a bad world. You don't see people beating the crap out of people with a different taste in music. Or a different taste in food. But when it comes to a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman… you don't want to listen to me talk."

"Talking _does _have its merits." Jacey said, sitting next to the tree where Adam had been sitting. "Both of us aren't sleeping… why not talk? I can listen well. It seems you need someone to let loose on."

Adam stared at this peculiar girl who seemed to appear out of nowhere. He sighed and sat down next to her. Something about her was… he couldn't place it. He just knew that she didn't care where his sexual orientation lay.

"Gum?" Jacey offered a piece from a black packet. She slipped a piece into her own mouth.

Adam shrugged. "Sure." He took a piece himself. "So… what do you want to talk about?"

"Whatever _you _want to talk about. As I said… I can listen. So I'll listen to whatever it is you need to air."

Adam nodded. "Okay… why not?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Yajuu-Kikuishi for the review! Okay! Emma belongs to LocalTalent53, Adam belongs to Bookreader2010, and Jacey Rae belongs to A Mosaic Masterpiece! **

**One more chapter guys! Then the exciting stuff happens! I'll introduce the last two characters next chapter, and then we'll get this ball rolling! Thanks for hanging in there! **

'**Till next time! **


	7. Ready, Set, Don't Go

_August 31__st__, Sunday_

_11:00_

Charlie Walker put his ear against the door, his mouth turning in an ever increasing frown. He had come to talk to his daughter who had her own dressing room due to being his child, but now he had heard the one thing he didn't want to hear. A man's voice.

"C'mon Bonny, your dad isn't gonna find out about this… or us, I mean, he doesn't pay attention to you, does he?"

"No… no, he doesn't… you're right, this is gonna be fine. I mean, what we have is perfect, I don't need that guy's permission for this. So what do I have to do?"

"You snort it up with that straw. You'll get a kick like you've never had before."

At this, Charlie's 6' 5" broad farming figure stiffened. He drew away from the door and took a deep breath. Then he slammed his shoulder hard into the wood. It buckled with little resistance. Charlie stood in the doorway, staring at his daughter and that boy, Zack. Both stared at Charlie in shock, white powder lying in straight lines on the table in front of them. Charlie had to try his hardest not to shout.

"What… in the goddamn hell… are you doin', Bonny?" He growled, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"D-Dad!" Bonny suddenly jumped to her feet, quickly swiping her hand across the table, sending the powder everywhere. But it was far too late. "I-"

"Is that cocaine?" Charlie asked quietly.

"I-yes, I mean, no- I-"

"You." Charlie pointed at Zack, who was stock-still. "Out."

Zack glanced at Bonny before standing defiantly before the much bigger man. "No. You can't tell her what to do. She's eighteen. She's old enough to think for herself. She's-"

"I. Said. Out." Charlie glowered down at Zack with enough force to make him scamper out of the room with his tail between his legs. Charlie looked back to Bonny, who was swiping her purple-dyed hair out of her eyes. She was nothing like her father. While Charlie embraced his Texas roots, complete with a thick moustache and cowboy hat, Bonny had been taken over by this new age music. She wore fishnet underneath skimpy skirts and tight tops. With purple eyeliner and lipstick it didn't take any stretch of imagination to think her a prostitute. "Bonny-"

"He's right you know! You don't control what I do!"

"I am your father, and cocaine is illegal. Do you want to be sent to prison?"

"I'd just get bailed out by you if I do, but I won't, 'cause I won't get caught!"

"_I _just caught you!"

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you? Fuck you, dad, Zack's a great guy and this stuff gives me excitement in my otherwise boring paparazzi invaded life!"

"That stuff will kill you! What else are you doin' when I'm not lookin'? I know you smoke, but what else do you do, huh? Take meth or speed or-"

"I don't have to tell you what I do when I'm on my own!" Bonny shouted. "You just can't accept that I'm not the daughter you wanted!"

"That is not true. I let you do what you want, but when you do things that are illegal, then that is where I draw the line." Charlie couldn't help but raise his voice. "And now you're datin' _him_? What the hell are you thinkin'!?"

"I'm thinking, dad, that Zack is exciting and awesome to be around. He doesn't just think of me as Charlie Walker's daughter, you know, he thinks of me as Bonny, someone to spend his future with! Oh, and by the way, I'm gonna be performing with him on stage tonight!" Bonny tried to exit the room but Charlie put his arm out, slamming his hand on the doorframe.

"You… what? You don't play any instruments."

"Shows what you know! I can play guitar, but I'm gonna be singing anyway!"

"Singin'?" Charlie stared at Bonny. "You can't sing."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence! I wasn't asking you anyway, and Zack thinks I can sing."

"Well, what are you singin' then?"

"Death metal!"

Charlie shook his head. "That is not music, Bonny, that's a bunch of screamin' nonsense!"

"I don't gotta play country, dad, that's your thing, not mine. You may not _like _death metal, but it's getting big. You have no right to say it's not music."

"You will not be performin' that deafenin' sound and you certainly will not be performin' with that boy."

"Fuck you, dad! You can't stop me! You're not the boss of me! You're just a fuckin' dictator!"

A flash of red burst through Charlie's mind. He raised his hand and was about to bring it down before he stopped himself. Breathing hard, he cleared his mind.

"Oh, yeah, dad, fuckin' hit me! Go on!" Bonny challenged, tears in her eyes. "I'm not mother! You hit me, I will fuckin' fight back and I will go to the police! Or maybe you'll just beat me to death, why not, you didn't have a problem doing that to mot-"

"That is not me!" Charlie roared, unable to hold in his voice any longer. He took a deep breath and looked into Bonny's frightened eyes. "Not any more…" He whispered before speaking up. "Fine… fine… do what you want… just… don't do anythin' illegal, please? Just… just be careful…"

Bonny didn't reply, just ran out of the room. After a few minutes, Charlie swung around and smashed his hand into the open door, sending his fist right through the plywood.

"Charlie?"

Charlie looked through the doorway to spot Elijah Freemon. Elijah was a good friend of his, someone he confided in. While he didn't like most forms of rap, Elijah had a message and wanted to support children and people in need everywhere. Charlie pulled his hand from the door and sat down on a chair by the wall, his head in his hands.

"You okay, man? I heard shouting?"

"Just… just arguin' with Bonny… were we loud?"

"Any louder and I'd expect you'd drown out the music on stage." Elijah said lightly, coming over to Charlie's side. "You need anything or do you want me to leave you be?"

"No… no, stay…" Charlie looked up at Elijah, his eyes wet. "I almost hit her… I had this… urge… I _wanted _to hit her… I didn't but…"

Elijah put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Hey… you didn't hit her though, that's the important thing, right?"

"I don't know how I can hold back, though… she keeps doin' these… stupid things… it's like she doesn't care about her life. I just want her to listen…"

"Then make her listen to your words, not your fists." Elijah said firmly.

Elijah had met Charlie at a meeting for parents who hit their spouses or children. Much like meetings for smoking or drinking, it was a place to seek help and get sponsors. A lot of people wanted to control their anger, and Charlie was one of them. Elijah was there as a special guest, being the man who had been beaten as a child. He had seen a fellow musician in Charlie and decided to sponsor him there and then, despite the fact he wasn't an official sponsor. Elijah saw his father in Charlie, and wanted to make sure he didn't end up like him.

Charlie nodded before standing up. "I need to get backstage… I'm gonna be performin' soon."

"Are you okay to do that?"

"I can't just disappoint my fans, Elijah, you know that. I'll be fine… I just… maybe I'll go to counselling with her. I want to fix this relationship."

"That'll be good. Keep me up to date, okay? But remember, if you ever feel that anger and you just _have _to hit something, hit something like that door, okay? Don't let yourself do anything else you'd regret."

"I know. Thanks, Elijah." Charlie clapped Elijah on the back before leaving. On his way through the corridor, his passed Eddy, who was chatting away on his phone. "Oh… I might have accidently broke a door." Charlie said on his way past. Eddy stopped and looked to the door in question, seeing door ripped open. He looked up at Elijah, who shrugged with a smile. Eddy just shook his head in disbelief.

"Is every one of my headline acts going to break my doors?"

"I'm not planning to." Elijah responded with a smile.

* * *

><p><em>15:03<em>

Raiden Darkoff was one in a crowd of 200,000, a great sea of anticipation and excitement. He looked like a lot of young men looked at the Festival with his jeans and hoody, as well as boots to stomp through the mud. While slightly plump, he was taller than most and as such wasn't under threat of losing sight of the stage. Not that you had to watch the stage to enjoy yourself. The music was the important part and as long as you could hear it - it was money well spent.

The electricity running through the crowd was due to one man. It was time for the first performance in 12 years from Bridge. He was perhaps the reason for the record-breaking crowd at the For The People festival, the reason so many people had squeezed together in and around the Pyramid Stage grounds.

A gong struck.

In that instant, everything went silent. No one in the massive crowd made a single noise. Instead all heads were directed towards the stage. It was time. Bridge's first solo performance. He had only performed with other bands 12 years ago, but he was extremely talented even on the side-lines. Being a solo act, these 200,000 festival goers were in for a treat.

Another gong reverberated out over the grounds. At the same time, smoke whirled from either side of the stage, forming in the middle, swirling around each other as if with a mind of their own. Then something moved at the very center of the stage. Something moved up. It didn't take long to realize it was a pure black coffin rising from the smoke with chains hanging off it. Every five seconds, the gong struck, loud and pure. The crowd was enraptured by these dark theatrics, paying closer attention to Bridge than any other performer could even hope for.

Then the coffin lid fell forward and slammed on the stage at the same time as another gong. Then Bridge stepped out, a microphone in hand. His slender figure was shadowed on the dark stage, his red contact lenses flashing like a demon in the darkness. At the first sighting of him, the crowd roared with cheers; wild, feral noise. Bridge raised the microphone to his lips and the crowd once more fell silent.

"Resurrection."

That one word was whispered, but echoed eerily out over the crowd. Four spotlights suddenly beamed down, bright on four different instruments. A drum set, a bass guitar, a grand piano, and a normal guitar. Everything other than the grand piano seemed stretched out, much like Bridge himself was. Perhaps it was to accommodate his peculiarly long arms. Bridge sat down on the drum set first and pulled two drumsticks from behind him that were tucked into his trousers.

In an instant, his arms were moving, flashing in a blur as he started playing. The rapid-fire beats were hit with precision, with the cymbals interspersed throughout. After exactly one minute, Bridge hit some kind of button below the drums with his foot. His hands stopped moving but the drums continued playing. He stood up and walked over to the grand piano and sat down once more. Once again he started in a flash, his long fingers snaking their ways over the keys, combining the clear notes of the grand piano over the heavy blast of the drum. It worked wonders. Another minute and he pressed another button, standing up again.

He repeated the process with the bass guitar before picking up the normal guitar. He placed the microphone on a stand and started playing the guitar with expert precision. There was a reason he was called a genius. Bridge leant forward, his body moving with his rhythm, and started singing.

His voice was one of a kind. It was deep, but smooth and pure. Every note was hit perfectly without even a waver, but never once did it sound robotic. It was natural, simply natural. His singing started relatively slow, working between the notes of the drums and piano. Then he increased tempo, weaving his way along with the instruments.

After six minutes of some of the best music the crowd had heard in the festival, the song ended. Bridge stood on stage, a wicked smile on his face. The crowd erupted, a volcano of hoarse cheers and waving arms. Bridge allowed the crowd to use their voices before he leaned close to the microphone again.

"Luxuria."

This pattern repeated again and again. After every song, he whispered the title of the next song in that eerie but commanding voice. Gula, Avaritia, Socordia, Ira, Invidia and finally Superbia. While Elijah Freemon and Charlie Walker got to perform four songs, Bridge was allowed a total of eight. It had been twelve years, it was a special occasion and the fans certainly wouldn't complain.

As the last notes of Superbia drifted away, the crowd gave its loudest ovation yet. Bridge stood on stage for around five minutes, taking in the cheers with that smile on his face. Then he went back through the curtain, leaving the stage empty. After another few minutes, Eddy Cool jogged out on stage, microphone in hand.

"Okay, everybody, that was one heck of a performance, but now it's time to announce the contest winners. If you get picked, remember that Bridge will perform a single song in the studio. As will Charlie Walker and Elijah Freemon. The bus will be leaving in one hour, so if your name is called out, you'll find the bus behind the Pyramid Stage. Show your pass and your identification when asked. Here are the nine that were selected."

Eddy's words were half a blur to Raiden. Bridge's performance had been one of a kind. He had never heard someone perform like that, with so much meaning behind every single note and word. However, he did pay attention to Eddy at the word 'contest'. He had signed up, in hope of meeting Bridge himself. The others were just a bonus.

Eddy cleared his throat and looked at a piece of paper. "Adam Treeland. Corey Walker. Ruby Ascot. Raiden Darkoff. Jace Ryan. Adam Collins. Jacey Rae Callibaster. Lily Talbot… and Sabrina Holland!"

_I got it! _Raiden couldn't mask the smile that spread across his face, despite the fact he never usually smiled like this. He figured it would be like lotto tickets. You never expect to win, just go with the thrill of being chosen. But he actually did win. He'd get to meet Bridge, the man who had made his life brighter. No other musician had the kind of effect on Raiden than Bridge. It was Bridge's music that got him through the hard times with Karen, and stopped him from doing something stupid when it was all over. Now he'd get to actually come face to face with his hero.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Bookreader2010 & Grojbandian180 for the reviews! Charlie Walker belongs to the aforementioned Guest, and Raiden Darkoff belongs to Darksider82. I'm aware that Raiden didn't get much screen time, but that was very much deliberate. We'll be seeing a whole lot of him over the coming weeks. **

**The introductions are done! Woo! Now, next chapter is the vision… and I **_**know **_**you guys are looking forward to it, I certainly am. We'll get our list, and we're gonna get to the blood and gore and the thick plot I have planned for Final Destination Encore. Keep a holdin' your hats, it's gonna get wild!**

'**Till then! **


	8. The Name of the Game

**I don't do A/N's up top anymore, but this is a special case. Recently, my work has been stolen and reused by a user by the name of 4fireking. Not just my work, but many other people's as well. He's plagiarised again and again. I just wanted to warn people out there that he's not to be trusted. **

_17:39_

Joseph Howarth had been a bus driver all his life. He often liked to think of himself as the most experienced bus driver in England. When he was twenty, he got a job as a prison bus driver. This was his career for a good fifteen years, before a shiv to the shoulder made him hang up his boots on that particular career path. He moved on to a school bus for another ten years, making the same old routes days on end, but it was enjoyable. Unfortunately, an ill-advised relationship with a female student cost him that job. While she was technically overage, the school still thought it looked bad and fired him. After that he flitted around as a casual bus driver before moving on to private buses for musicians, celebrities and the like. He was paid more than his other jobs just for doing the thing he had been doing all his life.

Joe was now sitting in one such private bus, his eyes peering out from his glasses to the door, waiting for the first arrivals. This bus was made especially for the annual contest of the For The People festival. The seats all looked at each other, so contest winners and headline acts could talk with each other. There was a mini-fridge on the right side between two seats. On the opposite side were ten sets of three albums, prepared to be autographed by the headline acts for this year's contest winners.

Seeing Eddy Cool approach, Joe opened the automatic doors for the host. With that flashy smile, Eddy leaned outside the bus. "Hey Joe."

"Hey there Eddy." Joe ran a hand down his clean-shaven face. "You comin' in?"

"I'm making sure the winners are actually the winners out here. However Elijah, Charlie and Bridge are on their way."

"I gotta say Eddy, I'm not sure I trust that Bridge will be comin'. He doesn't exactly seem a sociable guy."

Eddy shook his head. "I've been having this conversation a lot Joe. Bridge keeps his promise, so just trust in him. Speaking of which…" Eddy pointed a finger. Joe followed it to see Charlie Walker and Elijah Freemon walking side by side, talking. About ten steps behind them loomed Bridge, dressed in the exact same clothes he wore for his performance. Charlie was first on the bus, greeting Joe with a tip of his hat. Elijah slapped Joe on the shoulder as he passed.

"You good, J?"

"Always good, brother." Joe responded with a smile. He felt a certain kinship with Elijah. The man had it tough, being in prison at a young age. Joe had seen many prisoners claim to want to be good again, but often it was hard to believe. Elijah was proof that people could turn their lives around from jail. It was a bonus to see a fellow black man earn points for their community.

Bridge slid into the bus, having to duck low to avoid slamming his head on the frame. He couldn't even stand straight in the main bulk of the bus, his head and shoulders ducked down. Bridge strolled to the back of the bus without a word, sitting on the back seat with his legs stretched out before him. Joe looked to Eddy about Bridge's cold demeanour, but Eddy just shrugged.

"He's here, isn't he?" He laughed. "Right, the winners ought to be here soon."

The first to arrive was a very neat blonde girl. Emma, according to the nametag Eddy gave her. The nametag was to avoid any embarrassing situations of forgetting names. Interesting, Eddy didn't check the ticket or the identification for her, simply let her on the bus. She must have met with him before to not get checked. She walked onto the bus, greeting Joe with only a curt nod of the head. At least she acknowledged. A lot of the time, he was simply a bus driver, not anyone important enough to say hello to.

Next was a girl who practically skipped up to Eddy with a nefarious smile.

"Got your ticket and identification?" Eddy asked and took the ticket offered to him. "Alright then, Lily." He gave her the nametag before pausing. Lily cocked her head to the side.

"Something on my face?"

"You… You're that girl from before, in Bridge's room. What the hell are you doing here?" Eddy tried to keep his voice down but Joe could see in his mirror that Bridge had noticed the girl and his face turned even sterner than before. "I'm not going to let you on this bus, you know. I'll call security to get you - hey!" Lily sidestepped Eddy, completely ignoring him, and stepped up onto the bus. She tried to continue on but Joe grabbed her arm lightly, but firmly. He had dealt with her kind before.

"You ought to leave, miss." Joe said.

"Leave? But I won that contest. I spent a bunch for that ticket." Lily tried tugging her arm out of Joe's grip but was unable to. She glanced up to Bridge, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes. Elijah and Charlie were looking at the situation, bemused. She then looked to Eddy, who seemed to be on the phone to security. Lily sighed. "Oh dear… I guess I was caught. Well then, I'll make my way back to Japan and see if I can find some music by Ryoushi." Lily glanced back at Bridge, his hands squeezed into fists under his pockets. "Oh wait! I don't need to go to Japan, I can just-"

"It's fine, Eddy." Bridge called out, blinking slowly. "Don't bother."

Eddy stepped into the bus and looked to Bridge. "You sure?"

"It's fine. As long as she doesn't… do anything else, it's fine." Bridge seemed reluctant to say as much.

"Alright then." Eddy sighed. "Disregard that John." Flipping his phone shut he turned to Joe. "Let her go."

"Thank you." Lily pulled her hand back to her side and promptly skipped to the back of the bus, plopping herself down right next to Bridge. He stiffened again but his face hardly changed. Eddy sighed and shook his head, stepping outside the bus to greet two more winners.

Sabrina and Ruby, Joe noted. Ruby seemed extremely excited to be here, a normal reaction, while Sabrina seemed quite quiet. Maybe it had something to do with her nose, which seemed to be bruised heavily.

"Thanks!" Ruby grinned, practically pulling Sabrina onto the bus. Ruby had to contain herself coming face to face with three of the biggest faces of music.

"Evenin'." Charlie greeted, extended a hand to shake with Ruby. Ruby grabbed it eagerly.

"Hi! I'm a big fan of your music, well, all of your music, that's why I signed up for this contest, obviously, since there'd be no point in being here otherwise. I mean, you guys are simply awesome, inspirational, and I'm starting to embarrass myself so I'll just sit and be quiet." Ruby blushed and sat down with the quiet Sabrina at her side.

Next was a teenager called Corey, who strode onto the bus, trying to contain his excitement. Raiden came next. An unusual name, Joe noted. Both were about the same age, but likely had completely different personalities. Another pair arrived, this one male and female. The boy named Adam and the girl named Jacey. They were an odd pair, but they seemed comfortable around each other.

Finally, arriving almost a minute after everyone else, was Jace. He had his hands in his pocket, looking thoroughly miserable. Upon reaching the bus, he pulled his hands from his pockets and forced a smile. It was good acting, but Joe caught it. It didn't even seem like he wanted to be here. After he was checked and sat down on the bus, Eddy jumped on and Joe closed the doors behind him.

"Alright everyone! So, here's the plan as it stands. We are going to be taking a drive to London. On the way there, you'll have your chance to talk to Charlie, Elijah and Bridge. When we reach London, we'll arrive at a hotel, which as you know, is all prepaid. You'll be staying at the hotel for the night, and in the morning Joe here will arrive to take us to the studios, where Charlie, Elijah and Bridge will each record a single song to be given to each of you. These will be autographed." Eddy pointed to the album CD's. "You'll also receive their newest album, also autographed. Now, let's get comfortable."

* * *

><p>Carol and Timothy sat in the police car together, Timothy at the wheel. They were parked, looking out onto the road, watching the rain patter down on the fields ahead of them. Behind them were the lights of the festival, the sound of music still playing despite the fact that the Pyramid itself had closed down.<p>

"I can't wait to be back in London." Timothy complained for what seemed like the hundredth time. "At least we get the occasional interesting thing happening. Here it's just drunks. When you said patrol I thought you meant actually driving around."

Carol shrugged. "I thought that's what the order meant, but apparently not." Timothy started to respond just as Carol's mobile ringtone went off. Carol checked the number and frowned slightly. She answered the call immediately. "Cindy? What is- Slow down honey, what's the matter?" Timothy glanced to Carol, hearing the panicked tones on the other side of the phone. "You burnt your hand? On what… baking cookies? Where's Olly, he's meant to be looking over you? He said it'd be fine? Where is he? Out with his friends?" Carol squeezed the phone tighter. "Alright, it's okay, just your hand? Run it under the water as fast as you can, alright? Then-"

At that moment, a car suddenly zoomed around the corner. It was a Ford Mustang, driven by some scrawny looking man. He beeped at the two police officers as he sped past them. Following closely on his tail were three more Mustangs. The zoomed past, easily breaking the speed limit. Acting quickly, Timothy turned on the lights and started the car, leaning down to his radio to report in as Carol talked on her phone. "Alright honey, momma's gotta go, alright? Just keep it under water for a few minutes, I need to go. Love you." Hanging up and slipping the phone back into her pocket, Carol glanced at Timothy as he concentrated on the road. "You just had to say you wanted excitement, didn't you?"

"These idiots are going to crash at this speed. Jesus Christ."

* * *

><p>Sabrina sat silently on the bus next to Ruby as her fellow contest winners asked the three musicians questions. She didn't mean to sign up when she had come to the Festival, but Ruby talked her into it after she hit her in the face. Ruby was a nice girl. Slightly eccentric, but happy with the way her life was. Ruby had already called her a friend… friend… Sabrina hadn't had any friends since February 5th the year before.<p>

_Sean…_ Sabrina closed her eyes briefly and tried to concentrate on the pudgy Adam. After realizing that there were two Adam's who were contest winners - Adam Collins and Adam Treeland, Eddy had jokingly put '1' and '2' after their names on their name cards. He was looking at Elijah, asking his question.

"So… did you ever, like, dream of becoming as big as you are now?" Adam asked. Sabrina recognised him as one of the rookie musicians. He was pretty good, she seemed to remember.

"Nah, man, I don't think you ever expect to get to the top like this. I mean, sure, you dream of reaching these heights but I don't think you ever think you'd actually reach 'em." Elijah responded. Out of the three, he was the easiest to talk to. Charlie was okay as well, but Bridge generally responded with one or two word answers. "But man, now I'm at the top, I know it's simply a matter of effort. Like you, kid, I heard you on stage. You're good, man, and just like me, I think you can make it to where are."

Adam cheeks turned red and he rubbed the back of his head. "I… uh… thanks…"

"Hmph." Bridge said, deliberately loudly. All heads turned to him. Up until this point, he had never initiated conversation.

"Have you got something to add?" Eddy prompted. He was going between each winner, making sure everyone got a chance to talk to the headline acts.

"You talk of 'dreams'." Bridge said, sitting straighter in his seat. "Dreaming is all good and well, but you can't just 'dream' to make it to the top."

Adam bit his lip nervously. "W-What do you mean?"

"I heard that you were good. Good is fine and dandy. You can have a fine career being 'good'. But you'll never reach where we sit with simple dreams and effort. Being good, you can try and try to get better. Maybe you will get better. Maybe you'll work your way up to being a b Plus player in the industry. But efforts and dreams will never make you an A plus player, like we three."

Elijah and Charlie looked at Bridge, both frowning. Sabrina caught a brief sigh from Eddy Cool's direction.

"You got to be born with talent, kid. You can't make yourself talented, you can't just learn. You simply have to be born with the smarts to make it. Freemon and Walker were born with it. I was born with it moreso. You… You're not born with it. You don't have the look, the charisma, the talent. You obviously aspire to be like us but let me be the one to break it to you. You never will be like us. Maybe you'll get a gig or two, maybe even a concert, but you will never rise above B plus. Anything above is reserved for those like me."

"Hey man… don't bring me and Charlie into that, a'ight?" Elijah said, crossing his arms. The others were quiet and Adam bottom lip quivered. He sat back into his seat, silent.

"Well… uh…" Eddy ran a hand through his hair, smiling nervously. "I guess it's good to have different opinions…"

As the bus descended into awkward silence, Sabrina found her gaze drawn to the front of the bus. She looked past Joe and through the window. The roads were dark, any moonlight covered by dark rain clouds. Then two beams of light turned a near corner suddenly. Her eyes widened but before she could call out, the first Ford Mustang slammed hard into the front of the bus.

Joe's death was near instant. The much heavier Mustang crushed through the metal, bending inwards over Joe's lower half, crushing his legs and waist. His top half hung lip, blood dripping from his mouth.

The impact reverberated through the bus. Bridge, sitting face on, was thrust forward. He fell on his hands and knees, cursing. As the first Mustang hit the bus, it's rear end rose up into the air just in time for the second Mustang to slam underneath, essentially flipping the first Mustang over. It tore through the roof of the bus. Bridge got to his knees just in time for the tail end to crash hard into his head, crushing it easily. As the car skidded between the winners sitting on either side, Elijah managed to fall to the side while Lily leaped wildly forward, managing to avoid the impact. Charlie wasn't so lucky. The tail end crushed him in his seat, his chest capsizing inwards. Hitting the back of the bus, the Mustang tilted upwards, it's still moving front wheel shredding the underside of Jace's jaw, causing blood to spread everywhere.

The impact had also bent the door, making a sharp and deadly piece of metal. This pierced Ruby in the chest as it rocked from hitting the back of the bus. As Ruby died, Sabrina scrambled from her seat, the others in disarray.

Joe had slumped on the wheel, his foot stuck on the acceleration pedal. The bus managed to turn to the side just in time for the third Mustang to crash hard into the side. The glass and metal smashed inwards, a shard of metal stabbing Adam Treeland in the back. The piece of metal came out of his front. He stared at it in wonder, eyes blinking.

Eddy was on the floor, having been thrown from his seat. His arm was twisted the wrong way and he had lost a couple of his teeth. The third impact hit the bus hard, tipping it on his side. As he slid downwards, he looked up just in time to get crushed by the first car. Elijah, along with the others on the impact side of the bus, found himself tumbling. The fall was broken by the frame of the first Mustang, sharply cracking his head to the side. Lily landed on her feet like a cat, breathing hard.

The final Mustang slammed into the bottom of the bus, knocking her right off her feet and onto the floor. The metal piece that had impaled Adam snapped and fell down. Adam's body hit her along with the spike, pinning them together. Emma had managed to crawl out the broken back window, broken, bloody and beaten. She heard the squealing of break and turned to receive the back end of the police car into her body, smashing it into a pulp. The police car skidded to a halt, Carol and Timothy panting hard.

Then all was still.

Raiden was unconscious on the floor, still breath, his chest going up and down. Corey was clutching a torn jugular, his eyes wide and blood pumping through his fingers as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. Adam Collins was sitting up, his face a mess of blood. It looked like his nose had been completely smashed. Jacey Rae was clutching a broken leg, tears messing up her dark eyeliner.

Sabrina stared at all of these injuries and the fatalities strewn about the bus. She survived? This was just a… just a real accident. But she survived… she was scared that what she had done in the past wasn't enough, that Death was back to get her but… but she was alive. The police woman and man had come over, peering through the front windows, fact aghast.

Sabrina smiled just as the explosion from the second car burst outwards. Sabrina watched it all as if in slow motion. The first flames consumed Raiden and Corey. The tendrils snaked outwards as if grabbing for prey, reaching Adam and Jacey with a fiery embrace. The bonnet of the car flew outwards with immense speed, cutting Carol and Timothy in two. They looked at each other as their top halves fell away from their bottom half.

The smile was still on Sabrina's face as she felt her flesh burn, smelling that same smell from two years ago. Burnt flesh. At least she'd meet her parents again at last… at least she could explain that she wasn't a coward… and that she had fought to stay alive… She let herself, finally, take in the dark kiss of Death.

* * *

><p>Sabrina's hand suddenly stiffened, her nails tearing at the bus seat. Her eyes darted left and right, seeing that Bridge was in the midst of responding to Adam's statement. Then she looked at the road and saw ahead the corner. She knew that it had happened again, for whatever reason. She squeezed her eyes shut.<p>

_Why?_

That simple question. She had done all she could, she had done what she was asked… now… again? But she had no more time to question. Without a thought, Sabrina pushed herself from her seat and ran to the front of the bus. Joe looked to her with surprise as she grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it hard to the left. The bus squealed as it went face-first into a ditch hard, the force knocking everyone forward. Sabrina found her head bound against the front glass and she collapsed limply to the floor, everything turning black.

**A/N:- Thanks to Grojbandian180 & Yajuu-Kikuishi for the reviews. Woohoo! Vision! Yay! I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot. We've had our character introductions, now it's nothing but plot ahead. You can write the list and see where people are supposed to die and keep track, if you like. Things are gonna get good. **

'**Till next time!**


	9. Bodies

_17:50_

"I am going to be glad to arrest these sons of bitches." Timothy growled, keeping very close attention to the road as he followed behind the group of four Mustangs. Carol nodded.

"There's a sharp corner coming up, be careful."

"Way ahead of you." Unlike the Mustang drivers, Timothy slowed down as they approached that corner. Just before the Mustangs swung around the corner, a loud crashing sound cracked in the air. Carol glanced to Timothy.

"What was that?"

"No idea. Wasn't them." Timothy responded as the Mustangs disappeared around the corner. He followed soon after, turning just in time to see the Mustang in the lead curl to the left, apparently having lost control of his vehicle. "Oh shit."

The second Mustang hit the first in the side, crumpling metal and glass. It took barely a second for the next two to hit, smashing into the first two like hammers into nails. The pile up was quick and brutal. All four cars came to a stop, black smoke pouring out from underneath the bonnet of one of them.

"Timothy." Carol said, pointing to the side where the road dipped down. Timothy looked, having focused his attention on the crash, and spotted a bus that had gone front first into the ditch. They could see movement through the darkened windows.

"They weren't part of the crash." Timothy narrowed his eyes. "This is just great… What do we do?"

"Well, we have to call it in. I'll head over to the bus, see what the situation is. Check on the Mustang drivers. It's possibly they've sustained serious injuries. In fact, call the ambulance for good measure."

Timothy nodded, bringing the police car to a stop mid-way between the crashed bus and the Mustang pile-up. Carol exited quickly, jogging over to the bus. As she approached, a long slender man seemed to fold out of the door, coughing. The bus' engine was smoking as well, pushing through the broken front windshield and throughout the bus. Carol recognised the man. It was the famous musician who was performing at the For the People festival, Bridge.

Bridge wiped his mouth and passed by Carol, completely ignoring her when she tried to ask if she was alright. Shrugging to herself, Carol turned away to see about the rest of the people on the bus.

Lily skipped out of the bus, smiling despite the fact she had a cut on her head, a sliver of blood curving its way down her face.

"Are you alright?" Carol asked.

"Fine. Looks like the driver got the worst of it." Lily replied before skipping over to Bridge who had sat down further away from the bus.

At this news, Carol stepped inside the door and noticed that the bus driver was unconscious, leaning against the dashboard. The front of the bus had crumpled in, crushing his legs. She could see blood dripping on the floor. She quickly checked his pulse, thankfully finding one. Biting her lip, not used to scenarios like this, she turned to the back of the bus. Everyone was moving at least, checking out small injuries. Mostly cuts and bruises, although it seemed Eddy had a broken finger.

"Is everybody okay?" Carol called out to the occupants of the bus. Eddy approached her, nursing his hand.

"We're all good back here, other than my broken finger. But Joe…" Eddy looked to the front of the bus. "Is he-"

"He's breathing." Carol informed him. "Can you help get everyone off the bus? An ambulance is coming and it will be safer to be outside."

"What about Joe?"

"I'm sorry, but there's not much we can do until the ambulance gets here."

The bus quickly emptied under Carol and Eddy's supervision. It turned out Emma had somehow injured her foot. It didn't look broken, but it may have been a fracture, so she was helped out by Eddy who held her under the arm. As sirens were heard close by, Carol approached Timothy who had been looking at the crash. At the look on his face she could guess the result, but she had to ask anyway. "What's the damage?" She asked.

Timothy shook his head. "No survivors." He replied grimly. "Double check on the survivors over there. I need to write down some notes, as do you."

"Right." Carol nodded and walked back towards the survivors, who were all quiet. "Okay..." At the sound of her voice, the survivors all looked at her. "What happened here? How did the bus crash?"

"It crashed as a result of that girl saving us." Elijah said from the step of the bus. He was sitting close to Joe, ready to be there for him if he woke up. "She turned the bus into the ditch right before those cars crashed. I'm sure we would have been in that crash otherwise and things will have turned out a whole lot worse." Elijah pointed towards Sabrina, who was sitting next to Ruby. Ruby was shivering, obviously shaken by the incident. In fact, everyone other than Bridge and Lily looked shaken up.

"You saw the cars?" Carol questioned.

"I saw the headlights… they were going far too fast… There were headlights on either side of the road so I feared they'd hit the bus. I just… I just acted instinctively…" Sabrina said, rubbing her elbow.

"You may have saved a lot more lives." Carol said. Who knows what would have happened if the bus was caught in that crash. "The ambulance will be here soon, so those of you who need medical care will get treated. After that we'll have to get into more detailed questioning, but-"

Carol's voice was cut off by a cacophony of noise. The air rocked with the explosion of the Mustangs, everything turning bright in the late afternoon light. Carol fell forward - she could feel the heat of the explosion on the back of her neck. As she fell, she turned, getting a view of a body flung to the side. Her heart stopped for a brief moment as she realized who that must be. "Timothy!" She screamed.

As his body hit the floor, a hubcap broke free from one of the cars. The explosion propelled the hubcap forwards, spinning hard past the survivors and smashing through the back window of the bus. No one could do anything as it hit Joe in the back of the head, the force of the blow tearing through the back of his skull. His blood burst outwards, spilling over Elijah.

Then everything went silent other than the ringing in their ears. Elijah stared at his bloody hands then looked up to Joe. Carol, ignoring any other possible danger, sprinted towards the body that had been flung a good twenty foot from the explosion. She fell to her knees next to the heavily burnt and blackened body of Timothy. His face was covered with lacerations and his clothes had fused with his skin.

"Please… don't do this, Timothy, please… you're not… you can't be…" Carol was muttering incoherently, staring at the ruined face of her former lover and lifelong friend. His eyes suddenly flickered open, causing Carol to gasp. He tried to speak but no words came from his mouth. Instead, he raised his arm slowly and managed to grasp Carol's hand. Carol's bottom lip quivered as she held onto the hand, tears spilling from her eyes. Then the hand went limp and Timothy's eyes stared blankly past her.

* * *

><p><em>19:03<em>

"Right. Somerset? Okay… okay. What makes you think this is something for us?" Eugene Hawk held the phone to his ear, fiddling with a pen. He was sat at a desk, filled with a mess of paper and files. The office he was sitting in was small and packed tightly with filing cabinets and another desk. On one wall was a map of England, pegs dotted all across the large map, over a hundred in total. Another wall held a large whiteboard with over a hundred names written down - most were crossed off with red marker, but around twenty weren't. Sitting at the other desk, Harold Kelly listened closely, chewing his gum. His desk was laid out more neatly than Eugene's, with papers stacked perfectly and pens and pencils in their proper jar. "Sabrina Holland? Sure, I remember her. Had a shouting match with a wall in the hospital. Oh. And she's…" Eugene placed the pen on the table. "It's likely? You mean she hasn't told the other survivors? Alright, that's all we need to know. Do you have a list of the survivors for us?" Grabbing a piece of paper, Eugene picked up the pen again and started scribbling. He stopped for a moment. "What kind of name is Bridge? You mean we don't know his real name? Must be a miracle in this day and age. Alright, thanks. See you." Eugene placed the phone back down and leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"What's the situation?" Harold asked.

"Sabrina Holland's done it again, it seems." Eugene stood up, adjusting his trilby. "A bus crashed down in Somerset, some kind of award for a contest for that For the People Festival deal. Sabrina pulled the bus to the side, saving it from a more serious crash."

"And she didn't tell the other survivors about it." Harold said.

"This is unheard of." Eugene walked over to the whiteboard, hovering his finger over the name 'Sabrina Holland'. Her name wasn't crossed out. "We've had these visionaries stay alive and then they've gone cold turkey - nothing important ever comes up again. But a visionary involved in _another_ accident… We're missing something key here… facts show that there is never a second vision."

"She must have broken a pattern."

"But what pattern?" Eugene walked over to a filing cabinet, quickly browsed through, and pulled out a folder. He opened it and looked down at a picture of Sabrina Holland, taken from her family home. Her face was unmarred by the scar that would invade it in the future. "She's no different from any others. What makes her so special?"

"Perhaps there is a rule?" Harold suggested. Eugene turned to him.

"A rule?"

"We're dealing with something verging on supernatural. We've known this for years. We have it on record that some visionaries talk about 'Death' as a being, a person." Harold smacked his gum. "Something gives them visions. What if something gives them rules? What if Sabrina Holland decided to break this rule? Perhaps this is punishment."

"That's a lot of what if's…" Eugene frowned.

"Asking questions is our job." Harold simply replied. "We'll need to talk to her, I assume?"

"You assume right my friend." Eugene handed the piece of paper he had scribbled on to Harold. "We'll head down there tomorrow. In the meanwhile, let's gather as much information on these survivors as we can. We might be able to discern some kind of pattern."

* * *

><p><em>19:30<em>

"We're going to have to cancel." Eddy Cool said to his phone, sitting down outside the West Mendip Community Hospital in Glastonbury. He, Lily, and Emma had gone to the hospital to get their injuries treated. Luckily all were minor injuries. His finger now had a splint, Lily's head wound had been cleaned and treated, and Emma's leg thankfully turned out to be a sprain, not a fracture. The deceased had been taken away and those that weren't injured were allowed to go. They all went back to the Festival grounds, solemn and silent, the cheer gone from the night. Eddy listened patiently. "I know… I know we've spent a lot of money, but we can't just continue. I mean… if no-one died it would be a different matter but six casualties… it just can't happen. Besides, reporters are already asking questions of Bridge, Charlie and Elijah. They haven't gotten to me yet though. This is bad publicity, it has to stop." Eddy stood up and followed the hospital walls to the side. "We need to do something about those that don't live in England though." Listening to the response, Eddy shook his head. "We can't just ignore them, come on. Look, you like dealing in business - here's business. These deaths have bad publicity all around them. But housing those who can't go back home- why can't they go back? The police have asked as to stay in the south. London is pretty much as north as we can go. I don't know why, but I'm not exactly going to question their decisions. It's probably because one of their fellow police died so they want to make sure there wasn't any foul play."

Eddy had made his way to the back of the hospital now and sat down again. "Look, they can't get out of the country. If we use the hotel we were going to use for the contest as a place for the foreigners to stay, then we'll get good publicity out of these." Eddy closed his eyes in relief at the respond. "Okay, thanks. This'll be over soon, probably a week or so. I'll be seeing you soon." Shutting his phone, Eddy had to resist the urge to shout. Freddy could be so stubborn. At least he could assert some authority being a co-founder of the For the People festival. It was something not many people knew about him - he wasn't advertised as the owner unlike Freddy, but they had started it up together.

Although he couldn't blame Freddy. Those deaths had put him on edge… He knew Joe. Perhaps not quite a friend, but a guy he could talk to with a smile. Him being dead… Eddy shook his head. Death always scared him, the way a human life could snuff out in an instant. It'd be better not to think about it. Besides, he was proposing to Felicity in two days and he didn't want anything to ruin that day. He had put far too much planning into it.

Opening his phone again, Eddy started dialling the foreigners numbers one by one, to offer the stay at the hotels. He had gotten their numbers for contact purposes for the contest, just in case. Corey Walker, Ruby Ascot, Jace Ryan, Jacey Rae Callibaster and of course Emma. He phoned each of them and was surprised that all of them accepted. A free bed is a free bed, after all, Eddy guessed. It must've been even more horrible for them. They came to this country to enjoy some of the best music and instead ended up with multiple deaths in their memories. He'd have to see if he could do anything else for them later. They would be taking a minibus to London, where the hotel awaited.

"Let's just hope this one doesn't crash." Eddy chuckled to himself, before a feeling of intense guilt fell on his shoulders. He ducked his head down, staring at the floor. "Shit… Sorry, Joe…"

**A/N:- Thanks to Yajuu-Kikuishi, A. Zarko & Grojbandian180 for the reviews!**

**So Joe and Timothy have fell first in the main plot of this story. The first of many, I do so suspect.**

'**Till next time! **


	10. Misery Business

_21:20_

Carol stood across from the bleak looking house, the sickly orange light from the lamppost illuminating her face. She was standing at the first house of Ellery Road, in London. It was a cheap house, but the owners never much cared about money - not at the stage of their relationship they were in, anyway. The house was connected to another by one wall. Each house shared a garage and had a white door with a glass window. The neighbourhood was also sketchy at times. The type of neighbourhood where kids would play football in the streets without any regard of cars. Not a bad neighbourhood by any means, but definitely not the best.

In a way, Carol was sad that Timothy had lived here with Mary.

It had taken exactly an hour since Timothy's death before she got permission to come up to London and inform Mary of the death. The initial shock of him dying was lost quickly. She regained her professionalism and managed to fight through until the ambulance came. Another ten minutes and more police had arrived. Carol had handed in the initial notes at the station at the For the People festival, trying to ignore the way her stomach was curling in. She was still an officer of the law on duty, she couldn't grieve… not yet. Then she had managed to get permission to go to London to inform Mary. It was hard to persuade her boss, but in the end he understood why she had to go and relented. Two and a half hours later and she was standing across from the house.

The lights were still on. That was good, she wouldn't have to wake her up for the news. Taking a deep breath, Carol crossed the road, rang the doorbell, and placed her hat in the crook of her arm; the universal sign for bad news. She heard footsteps down the stairs followed by the chains of the door being fiddled with. Finally the door opened and Mary looked to Carol, surprised.

Mary was a short woman, but full of spirit. She was attractive with dark hair and a good figure, although it wasn't a surprise that she shared similarities with Timothy's deceased wife. Mary started to welcome Carol before her eyes drifted to the hat in her arms. Her mouth shut into a thin line, her face falling. No words needed to be said. Years before, a policeman had arrived at Mary's door with the news about her husband.

"Come in." Mary said quietly, opening the door wide. "Please, take a seat."

Carol had met Mary only a few times when she had come to meet Timothy at work or surprise them when they were having coffee. They had shared laughter together, and got along well. Although if she knew about Carol and Timothy's former relationship, perhaps Mary wouldn't have been so amiable to their friendship.

Sitting down in the modest living room, Carol watched Mary as she slowly sat down opposite her. Her expression was hard to read. Carol could see pain, sadness, perhaps even anger. But she didn't see any shock or surprise.

_This is hard,_ Carol realized. This was the first time she had informed somebody of a death. She knew it would be difficult, but this air was stifling.

"How?" Mary asked, her fingers squeezing the ends of her chair.

"We were chasing a group of criminals who were racing. They crashed and we stopped to investigate. There was another crash close by, which I went to investigate. Timothy checked up on the criminals. One… One of the cars exploded." Carol spoke slowly and clearly, trying not to let her voice crack. She needed to be strong for Mary.

Mary nodded, biting her lip. She looked around the room, her eyes connecting with certain objects that could only be Timothy's. A pen on the table, next to a newspaper. A half open book sitting next to a chair which had been well sat upon. A painted picture of a sunset hanging on the wall. All otherwise inconsequential, but all with Timothy's mark upon them. "You know… when the policeman came to my house three years ago telling me of my husband's death, I was a mess. I cried my eyes out that day, angry at the world for taking him away. Now it's happened all over again and… I don't feel like crying. Timothy wouldn't want me to break down… I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

Carol didn't know what to say, so she just listened.

Mary stood up, tapping the sides of her legs. She glanced around the room again, contemplating that she would be alone in the house once again. She looked to Carol. "He loved you, you know." Catching Carol's expression, Mary shook her head. "Don't deny it. He told me about your relationship. He didn't want to keep any secrets. I once asked why he chose me over a good friend, and he explained what happened after your husband died. Forbidden love, he called it. I don't think he ever got over that guilt. He believed he took advantage of you."

"It was just as much my fault as it was his." Carol murmured.

"At least you can admit that. So many people force blame on others." Mary sighed. "I understood his feelings about you. Even now, I still love my husband. I loved Timothy but I loved my husband more. It was the same for him about you, I think."

Carol ducked her head, gritting her teeth. She could feel tears forcing their way out of her eyes. She didn't want to cry, but hearing about Timothy's love for her… Rubbing her arm over her eyes, Carol looked back up to Mary. "He was a lot happier with you than he ever was with me, though. I could tell. When he talked about you, his eyes lit up more than I'd ever seen them before. You say he loved me more… I don't think that's true. I really don't. I may hold a place in his heart, but you are the one he loved."

Smiling softly, Mary reached in a cabinet and brought out a bottle of red wine. She grabbed two small glasses and placed them on the counter. "This wine was preserved for special occasions. Birthdays, mostly." She poured a small amount in each glass before putting the bottle away again. "Something he brought me on our first date." Mary handed one of the glasses to Carol and sat down again. She stared at the red liquid for a moment before holding the glass out to the air. "To Timothy."

Carol was amazed at how strong a woman Mary was. It was almost as if Carol was the one who had just been informed of his death. She raised the glass up high as well. "Timothy." She echoed.

* * *

><p><em>21:36<em>

The day had gone from great to absolutely dreadful. Raiden lay face-up in his tent, staring at the faded green fabric. Initially he had been happy at the festival, listening to the many types of music and enjoying himself on his own. The music made him feel free, allowed him to forget about the harshness of life and just feel good about himself. Then he had won that contest, which was something he wasn't expecting. It was the first time he won anything of consequence, not that it mattered now. The main point of interest was that he would get to meet Bridge.

Bridge was the type of musician Raiden loved. He didn't seem to care what he looked like and he didn't give in to other styles. His style was unique; the definition of free. Raiden wanted to talk to him, ask him questions, learn what that freedom was like.

Instead, it turned out Bridge was a complete asshole.

At least, that was Raiden's impression. Initially he thought he was just quiet. Taking in the scenario. But then he had that speech about dreams and talent. Superiority oozed out of his words. He didn't care how his words affected people. That Adam seemed like a nice guy, but Bridge just put him in his place without a care in the world.

As if that wasn't bad enough, they had that crash. The crash itself wasn't a big deal - although Raiden would be the first to admit it scared him. No, it was the explosion and the following two deaths that affected him the most. When that hubcap had hit the bus driver, Raiden had impulsively looked at the body. The head was completely collapsed, blood and brains seeping out over the dark skin of the driver. Mouth half open, tongue lolling out, it was a disgusting sight.

And the eyes… the eyes of a man who had died. Nothing was worse than eyes that had lost their lustre. Raiden had seen those eyes before.

He had watched the light fade from Karen's eyes, second by second. Raiden had held her thin hand, watched her decrepit body shake. Karen was always so strong. But in the moment when she realised she was dying, those eyes showed how scared she was. After all of her talk, she realised that she wasn't ready to die. She didn't want to die. She clutched at Raiden's hand tightly, squeezing as hard as she could, fighting fate…

…but fate won. The cancer overtook her and her body spasmed one final time and she became still. Back then Raiden had cried until the nurses arrived and took him away from her. In those minutes as she lay dead in front of him, Karen's eyes stared holes into his souls, telling him the truth of the dead. No matter how strong you are, no matter how expected it is, no matter how much you say you're prepared, that you won't be scared… all that bravado disappears in an instant and your final emotion will always be fear.

The bus driver's eyes were the same as Karen's. That fear etched on his face. A moment of shock as the hubcap hit him, then in those precious seconds as his life dripped away, the fear set in. Raiden had watched it, entranced.

Death was so sudden. So final. The only constant thing in life. It was unavoidable. Everything else was subjective. You _could_ have a family. You _could _get a disease. You _could_ be rich. But you _will _die. Death didn't care for age. After Karen died, Raiden had read up on death statistics, in some kind of grim interest. They horrified him, yet interested him. You could be a baby, a drug user, a skateboarder, a straight-A student, a president, a member of royalty, a celebrity, an author, a homeless man. The message was clear as crystal - Death did not care who you were.

After looking up statistics, Raiden had had his first panic attack. He wasn't expecting it; in fact, he thought it was some kind of sick joke courtesy of death himself. He remembered what he thought clearly.

_I'm having a heart attack?_

He thought how ironic that would be. Looking up death statistics, and suddenly he dies? At that moment he was convinced he was going to die. It didn't matter that he was healthy - all logic went out the window. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest, breathing rapidly, feeling hot and sweaty. That intense fear that drove through him like a spike to the heart. Nothing would ever match up to that feeling. He was there for minutes, alone in his room, thinking it was all over, that at least he could join Karen if there was anywhere after death.

Then the attack ended and he had sat on the floor for near half an hour, shocked, confused, scared shitless. Over the next couple of years, the panic attacks always surprised him. They were very infrequent, but always horrible, always lasting over three minutes.

Always making him think: _Is this it?_

Inside his tent, Raiden shut the thoughts down. He didn't want to incite a panic attack thinking about panic attacks. The irony would be far too much.

He had to go home the next day. Sighing to himself, Raiden pulled his clothes off and slipped into his sleeping bag. He closed his eyes and hoped that sleep would come quickly tonight.

Sleep did come quickly, but so did those eyes.

The eyes of the dead.

**A/N:- So, these scenes turned out slightly shorter than I was expecting, so you get a short chapter today. I'll try really hard to actually get some kind of schedule going, I promise :D**

**Keep a watch out for next chapters, that's where things really start to heat up.**

'**Till then! **


	11. Shooting Star

_September 1st, Monday_

_07:11_

The sound of squeaking woke Lily Talbot up. She rolled in her sleeping bag and looked at the rat which stood on the concrete floor. The rat stared at her and Lily stared back. The beady eyes twitched.

"Hey there," Lily grinned. One of her braids had managed to get to the front of her face. As she threw it back over her head she sat up and put her hand on the ground and clicked her tongue. The rat looked at her suspiciously, sniffing the hand. It decided it was okay and walked on her hand, its claws lightly scratching her. Lily brought it up closer to her face. "You're a cute little thing, aren't you?" Lily placed the rat back down and stood up out of her sleeping bag, letting out a yawn. She was still in her previous clothes, the skirt rumpled even more than it had been and a couple of the rips in her shirt had widened. The only thing which she wasn't wearing was her jacket, which she had been using as a pillow.

Unfolding it, she slipped the jacket on and looked around the alley she had been sleeping in. She had hidden herself behind a dumpster so people wouldn't see her as they drove past on the road ahead. She used the dumpster to balance herself as she pulled her boot on tighter - it had gotten loose in the night. Luckily it hadn't rained, although she had gone to sleep in the rain before. She had slept in a number of places, many worse than an alley. She didn't really have a home; she simply went where Bridge went. And heck, sleeping outside was an adventure.

After Lily rolled up the sleeping bag, she placed it in a rucksack and pulled it over her shoulder. She carried the rucksack with her whenever she was on the move. It had seen her through many nights and days. Other than the sleeping bag, she kept a can of deodorant, a notepad and pencil, and a wallet complete with a number of notes. She showered whenever she could sneak in to other people's houses. She knew exactly what to look for, the tell-tale signs of a deserted house. While she was fine using their showers, she didn't sleep there. Sleeping in another person's bed was just rude.

Walking around the back of the low building to her right, she placed her ear on a fire escape door. Inside she could hear a very faint thrumming sound. Satisfied, Lily pushed the door open and stepped into the dark building. The first floor was nothing more than a reception desk and a couple of waiting tables. The real interest was down the stairs leading underground. Lily tip-toed down, the thrumming getting moderately louder. She opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and found herself in a corridor. The thrumming sound came from the left, while the right housed a storage room connected to a changing room. She crept down the left and approached a set of thick double doors. She looked from them and grinned.

The room was large, a hall with enough space for two hundred people to cram into. Turned off lights hung on the roof, pointed towards a stage at the back of the room. The stage was a nice one, perfectly polished with a set of three pyrotechnic tubes on either side. The curtains that usually hid the backstage equipment were wide open, revealing a number of control panels and boxes. It was on this stage that Bridge was standing, his slender arms moving rapidly as he played a guitar. In one swift moment she opened the door and slid into the back of the shadowy room. Bridge was too engaged in his music to take notice of her. She went to the corner where a number of chairs were piled up and sat down, crossing her arms with a smile.

Bridge's face was a mask of concentration, the only time his stern face was different. A bead of sweat slithered down his cheek but he took no notice of it. He just allowed his fingers to move across the guitar as naturally as if it were an extension of his body. Lily noticed three empty water bottles and one half full one at Bridge's feet and realized that he must have been playing all night. Well, if she knew anything about Bridge it's that he was devoted to his music.

The smooth but rapid melody was suddenly interrupted by a jarring note change as Bridge played the wrong note. His face screwed up in furious anger. Without a word he swung the guitar hard, throwing it across the room. It soared the length of the hall before coming crashing down next to Lily, breaking into two parts and spinning across the polished floor.

Staring at the two pieces of the guitar, Lily knew something was wrong. She looked back up to Bridge and saw him pacing back and forth, his fists clenched.

"Get the right note!" He hissed through clenched teeth, his three braids swinging back and forth. "You've done this a million times before, why do you screw up now? Rule number one: _don't_ screw up." Bridge stopped and took a breath, closing his eyes. He took a few more breaths before walking past the curtains and disappearing for a moment.

Lily's mind was whirling. In all of her time following Bridge, she had never seen him this angry. She had certainly never seen him fail a note. The man was a genius, plain and true. He prided himself on that genius. For a brief moment Lily wondered what had got him so flustered, what changed his character so much? Then she realized that it must have been the bus crash yesterday where those two men died as well as those racers. At the scene he had seemed normal but what if it had affected him more than he let on? Bridge certainly didn't show his emotions to anyone so it wouldn't be surprising if he bottled it up.

Bridge appeared back on stage, a new guitar in his hands. He started playing again immediately, the same tune as before. He was glaring at his hands, as if willing them to play the right notes.

* * *

><p><em>07:30<em>

The feeling of an arm draped over her comforted Ruby Ascot in her dreamless sleep. She smiled on her hotel bed, clutching the hand subconsciously with her arm. Then her mind realized that she didn't have anyone to hold - no boyfriend or anything like that. She opened her amber eyes and found herself staring at the sleeping face of Sabrina. In sleep, the woman's face looked a lot different than before. Even the scar seemed less prominent as the sun rays lit her face up.

Sabrina had arrived the night before at the hotel Eddy Cool had provided the foreigners. She explained that she didn't really have a place to stay. She said that she had contacted Eddy to get the hotel location, Sabrina had asked to sleep in the room - Ruby being the one person she had befriended in a long while. She should have been sleeping on the two comfy chairs they had pushed together, but somehow she had made it into the bed.

Ruby smiled softly and slowly crept out of bed, carefully placing the arm on the covers. Sabrina had had a hard day yesterday ever since the bus crash. She had been shaky and nervous the rest of the evening and Ruby had noticed that she was constantly stroking her scar. Sabrina must have been reminded of whatever had caused that scar. Ruby certainly wasn't cold-hearted enough to wake her up and kick her out of the bed. Letting Sabrina stay where she was, Ruby padded over the cream carpet floor to the bathroom.

The hotel rooms that Eddy had given them were amazing. Ruby couldn't believe that she was allowed to stay here for free. Everything was cream with blue highlights, completely clean. A pristine bathroom, the most comfortable bed Ruby had ever slept on, the fluffiest towels that were just perfect. Everything was brilliant.

Inside the bathroom, Ruby started the shower and undressed from her bed clothes, checking herself in the mirror. Her pink hair was all over the place, although Ruby was fine with that. She liked the chaos of messed up hair. The shower was luxuriously warm. Ruby hoped the sound wouldn't wake Sabrina up. After washing herself, Ruby stepped out and dried herself off. Wrapping the towel around herself she walked back into the main room; Sabrina was still sleeping soundly on the bed. Ruby walked past to her suitcase and started rummaging for something to wear. A blue plaid shirt and another pair of black jeans would work.

"…Sean…"

At that murmured voice, Ruby turned back to Sabrina, clothes still in her arms. Sabrina was fidgeting, her mouth twitching.

"…I had to… I promised… the price… please forgive me…" Sabrina's face was screwed up as if she were in pain, sweat running down her cheeks. The peacefulness from before was completely gone. "…I loved you… I promise… I'm sorry… necessary… didn't want to die…" Sabrina rolled on the bed, the covers flying off revealing her thin frame, covered by a pair of sky blue pyjamas. "Don't make me… I didn't kill them… I didn't… let me out… let me out… LET ME OUT!" The final phrase was a scream, loud and shrill. Sabrina rolled off the bed, landing on her hands and knees, hair falling over her face.

Ruby moved forward, not entirely sure what to do. She placed a hand on Sabrina's shoulder.

_"Luxuria… Gula… Avaritia… Socordia… Ira… Invidia… Superbia…" _

The voice echoed as if she were standing in a great hall, resounding all around her. Images struck her mind, flashing past under a second. A target. Swords crossing. Fangs. Then Ruby found herself in the middle of a forest, bleak and dark, the trees naked and bear. In the distance she spied a figure, tall and slender, almost double her size. She blinked. The figure got closer. Ruby found herself blinking over and over again, against her will. At every blink the figure got closer and closer, until its arms were around her. Light burst from the right side of its face, burning her. She could almost feel her skin sizzling away.

The forest and the man disappeared. She found herself in a completely white room, no doors, no windows. A small girl was sat in the middle of the room, red splotches covering her. Ruby approached against her will.

"_…Let me out…"_ The whisper was silent and desperate. _"…Let me out… please… let me out… LET ME OUT!" _The girl whipped around, mouth stretched in a horrifying smile, eyes wide and mad. She lunged for Ruby, fingers reaching outwards. Ruby stepped back, horrified.

And her hand came off Sabrina's shoulder. Ruby fell backwards, her mouth half open in shock. _What was that? _She closed her mouth and gulped. Sabrina was still on the floor, making whimpering sounds. Ruby found herself moving closer again, wanting to help the poor woman. She reached for Sabrina again. This time Sabrina whipped around and Ruby caught sight of completely white eyes, like a blind man's eyes. Sabrina grit her teeth and swiped her hand through the air. Her nails caught Ruby on the cheek, tearing through the flesh. Ruby gasped in pain and fell backwards again, blood already seeping out of the deep cuts.

"Sabrina." Ruby called out, blood dripping out from under her fingers and staining the floor. Sabrina just stared at her with those horrible white eyes, panting. "Sabrina." She was determined to make her listen. Sabrina had said they were friends, and despite hardly knowing her Ruby felt like they _were _friends. She did not want to see her friend in pain, no matter what it was. "Sabrina!"

The final shout of her name drew Sabrina out of her phase. Her eyes brightened again, blue in place of white. The eyes flicked around the room as if there for the first time. Then they connected to Ruby's face. "Oh no…" Sabrina moved forward towards Ruby. "Did I… oh no, I'm sorry, Ruby, I'm-"

"Don't worry about it." Ruby said, the bottom left side of her face now crimson. Blood now stained the towel around her as well as the floor. The… vision had allowed her to forget about her usual reactions to blood. Usually she would collapse. She hated blood. But after what had just happened… she couldn't faint, not now. Ignoring that feeling in her stomach, Ruby placed a hand on Sabrina's shoulder. This time nothing happened. "Payback for the punch I gave you." Ruby grinned.

"It's not alright, that looks bad…" Sabrina stood up and looked around. Finally she grabbed another towel from the bathroom. She folded it to a small rectangle and motioned for Ruby to move her hand. Ruby did, revealing the four ragged scratches Sabrina had torn into her flesh. "That's really bad. We need to do something about that." She placed the towel on Ruby's cheek.

"Before that… you need to explain what that was." Ruby said, her smile disappearing.

"What was?" Sabrina asked absent-mindedly, wiping the blood away.

"That vision. The forest and that figure and that little girl… what was it?"

Sabrina froze. She connected eyes with Ruby. In those eyes Ruby could see fear and trepidation. "You… You saw that?"

"Yes." Ruby continued to stare into those eyes, scanning for a reaction. "That wasn't… that wasn't normal. I touched you and… that… I've never heard of anything like that."

Sabrina bit her lip, continuing to methodically wipe Ruby's face. Ruby waited for a reply but Sabrina was silent for a long time. She finally let out a breath. "The first half of that… the man in the forest… that was what I call a clue."

"A… clue?"

I… it's hard to explain… I don't want to explain…"

"Okay, okay, you don't have to if you don't want to." Ruby reassured. It seemed Sabrina was on the edge of something in her mind. Very delicate. Ruby didn't want to push her over that edge. "What about the second part? The little girl?"

Sabrina smiled warily, her eyes shining. "That was me in my room. That room protects me… there are no windows, no doors… I can't escape from that room. That's good, because I don't want to escape from that room. That room is my saviour. Outside that room, danger lurks… _he _lurks… my guilt lurks…"

"But she said 'let me out'. Sabrina, it sounded like the little girl… you… wanted to get out."

"The little girl is me. The voice is the other me." Sabrina explained, as if it made all the sense in the world. "The other me doesn't want to stay in the room. She wants to break out of there and accept the outside. I can't accept the outside. I'm safe in my room." Sabrina's bottom lip quivered and her eyes grew wet. "I'm safe in my room, Ruby… I can't leave that room… I can't…" Sabrina let out a choked sob.

Ruby pulled Sabrina in close, putting her face on her shoulder. The now red towel fell to the floor, dropped out of Sabrina's hand. Sabrina clenched Ruby tight, sobbing into her shoulder. Ruby patted her on the back, not understanding what was going on. "It's alright, it's alright." It felt like she was comforting a young child.

A clue… Sabrina said the first half was a clue. But to what? A bare forest… a man twice her size… Ruby sat on the floor, blood starting to trickle out of her cheek again as she thought, holding Sabrina tight in her arms.

* * *

><p><em>7:50<em>

It seemed to Lily that Bridge had gotten his normal attitude back. He had finished with the guitar, did a practice with the drums, and had moved onto bass. He stood on the stage, playing the bass guitar with concentration.

Lily's head throbbed slightly as she watched. The cut she had received on the bus wasn't anything serious, but it still made her have a slight headache. Not that she cared. As she watched Bridge, she lightly massaged her forehead with a knuckle, leaning further backwards. A few minutes later and Bridge stopped playing. He placed the guitar on the floor and took a swig of water from the bottle. His hand snaked into his pocket and fished out a phone. He flicked it open and pressed a couple of buttons before holding the phone to his ear.

"It's Bridge." He said, walking slowly around the stage. "I'm all set to play tonight." His voice echoed around the empty room. He still hadn't seen Lily in the corner. "Never think I won't make it. When I make a promise I keep a promise." Bridge stood still on the left of the stage, listening on the phone.

A movement above him caught Lily's eye. She glanced upwards toward the rigging that held the lights. Everything was still. She shrugged it off and continued to watch Bridge.

"Excuse me?" Bridge's voice grew ever so slightly louder. "You booked me. You do not back out at the last moment. I kept my end of the deal, I expect you to keep your end." He narrowed his eyes at the phone. "You realize that you are throwing one of the biggest names in England out of your gig, right? Do you realize the tickets I sell, how much money you will get from me?" At the response, Bridge let out a rough bark of a laugh. "So who's the person you thought should take my place?" Bridge listened slowly. "…A band? Pro? No? Rookie… you're kidding me, right? Fine, you don't want the money I can bring, then you continue to be a down in the dumps club. You'll never get anywhere without kicking a few rookies aside." Bridge clicked off the phone without waiting for an answer. He shook his head and let out a breath. "A rookie… stupid idiots."

Bridge took a step and his foot slid out from underneath him, sliding on the overly-polished floor. His coat flailed up into the air as he fell forward, straight towards one of the pyrotechnic tubes on the left side stage. The tube was directed straight at his eye, solid enough to go straight through.

Bridge's arms bulged as they hit the floor first. He grit his teeth as he stopped his face from hitting the tube. He stared down at the tube, eyebrows knitted in concentration. "…I don't trip…" Bridge said, irritated with himself.

Lily was already up on her feet, ready to make a move. When Bridge caught himself, she breathed a sigh of relief. She slinked back into the shadows just as she caught the movement above Bridge again. She looked up again, the throbbing in her head trying to distract her. She pushed the feeling back and scanned the roof. Lily noticed a part of the rigging slowly falling, ever so slightly. The wire holding it up seemed to be snapping.

The _snap _was loud. It echoed over the room. Bridge heard it but was too slow to react. The metal rigging fell downwards, slamming hard on one of the electronic panels. Sparks bursts outwards as it slamming into the pyrotechnic controls. Looking down the tube, Bridge saw the tiniest spark at the far end. His eyes widened slightly.

While Bridge was slow to react, Lily had reacted as soon as the wire snapped. Whether it was instinct or something else, she didn't know. All she knew was that as soon as the wire snapped, it was like a starting gun. She burst forward, sprinting the length of the hall. As the metal rigging hit the console, she was already leaping up on the stage in one graceful jump. She spun around on her foot and let her other leg fly forward. Her boot slammed hard into Bridge's ribs just as a torrent of purple sparks burst upwards, covering the right side of his face.

The sparks only hit for a second before the force of Lily's kick knocked him to the side. He roared in pain, his hands instantly moving towards his face. He clutched it in agony as the purple sparks continued to rise up into the air. Lily rushed over to him and fell to her knees next to him. "Are you okay? Gerald, let me see your face."

Bridge opened his left eye and looked at Lily, his teeth gritted tightly. "What the… fuck… are you doing here?" He hissed before another spasm of pain wracked through his body. He kicked at the floor, his boots slamming down hard.

"Let me see your face." Lily said calmly, grabbing Bridge's hands and forcing them away from the right side of his face.

Lily drew in a breath, shocked. She didn't shock easily, but the sight of Bridge's face was… disturbing.

The pyrotechnics had burnt away skin and muscle in an instant. Some hair had been burnt off and the skin was a dark red and mottled. Bone could even be seen at certain sections. The worst part was his eye - or lack of it. It was completely gone, with only a mess of red inside the socket. Lily let go of his hands and let him grab the side of his face again.

Bridge groaned and pushed one hand on the floor, his left eye tearing up as the nerves that weren't burnt away felt the brunt of the injury.

"Don't move, that'll be bad." Lily suggested, completely calm.

"Fuck… you…" Bridge said, but the movement of his mouth stretched the burnt skin. He let out another roar of pain as he struggled to his feet. He managed to stand, waving back and forth like a leaf in the wind. "I can't… see…" He tried to step forward but his body protested. He stumbled backwards, falling into the curtains. He pushed his way past them and collapsed on a nearby chair, clutching his face. "…Christ…" He was breathing heavily, sweat dotting the left side of his face. Lily could tell he was trying to hide the pain but it was obvious on his face. To be honest, she was surprised he was even standing.

If she hadn't gotten him out of the way, the sparks would have torn through his skull - almost certainly killing him. This injury was bad… but it was manageable. "Give me your phone." Lily put out her hand. "We need to call an ambulance."

"...No…" Bridge growled, the very act of speaking causing him trouble. His words were slurred and hoarse.

"Don't be so stubborn. Give me your phone." Lily said, feeling curiously calm. She was certain she should have been panicking, but she just didn't feel like it. Heck, she could still smile if she wanted to.

"…I'm not… going… to a damn… hospital…" Bridge slapped the hand away and stood up again, even more unbalanced on his feet. He took three steps forward on pure will alone before a final wrack of pain moved its way to his body. He roared in anguish and found his legs falling underneath him. He collapsed to his knees and fell forward.

Lily managed to catch him, her arms grabbing around his chest. His head fell on her shoulder, his breathing slow and shallow. He had collapsed, the pain obviously too much. Lily struggled to reach into his inner coat pocket and pulled out his phone to get an ambulance.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Bookreader2010 for the review!**

**So this was MEANT to come out yesterday, but fanfiction decided it didn't want me to submit . Nothing like making my schedule worse than it already is XD**

**Told you things would happen in this chapter. Bridge has managed to avoid the first death of the list, while Sabrina… well, we'll get to Sabrina more next chapter. **

**And yes, there will be supernatural themes through this story - not as much as Revelations, I don't think, but certainly some. **

**'Till next time! **


	12. Honesty

**A/N:- Okay, so my hard drive isn't looking too good, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I'll just have to put my files back together. Also, important news, if you feel like getting updates on story status I've made a Twitter account so I can tell when chapters will be delayed, or when they'll be up, etc. etc. Check that out at the username: BTolson23**

_11:14_

Even since Sabrina's outburst, the morning had been awkward between her and Ruby. Ruby wanted to talk but Sabrina kept shutting her out, not willing to answer any questions. The vulnerability was gone now, turned into cold sullen silence. Ruby had given up after the first hour, instead taking to reading a magazine she had found in one of the hotel cabinets. Sabrina sat at the foot of the bed, watching the news absent-mindedly. Ruby had wondered why she didn't just leave, but then Sabrina's answer from before rang in her head.

"_I don't really have a place to stay…_"

Ruby glanced over the top of the magazine and stared at the back of Sabrina's head. Something was extremely… interesting about her, Ruby had to admit. She didn't sound American like her or otherwise foreign. Ruby assumed she was English, but why wouldn't someone from England have somewhere to stay? Even if she lived far north, she could have taken a bus back home. Perhaps she didn't have a home.

_Even orphans have somewhere to stay._ Ruby pursed her lips, the magazine falling forgotten on her lap as she contemplated Sabrina. She couldn't have been homeless – a homeless person would not have been able to afford a ticket to the festival, and besides, Sabrina was well groomed. A run away then? But once again the ticket price just didn't add up. Parents didn't carry three hundred and sixty dollars in change on their persons, so Sabrina couldn't have stolen it from them… unless…

Sabrina did have that lip scar as well as the four inch scar on her leg. Was she some kind of criminal? A thief? She could even have been some kind of run away from a mental hospital, considering what had happened earlier… _And now you're letting your imagination run wild, Ruby. _Ruby shook her head and decided that she needed to know more about this peculiar girl.

"Let's get something to eat." Ruby called out, speaking for the first time in two hours.

Sabrina looked back at Ruby, a slightly suspicious look on her face. "Eat?"

"Y'know, food?" Ruby smiled and got up off the bed. "You haven't eaten since yesterday, and neither have I. Judging by what we've seen of the hotel so far, it's got to have a great cafeteria. And seeing how it's all free, why not take advantage?"

It took a few moments for Sabrina to think about it before she nodded slowly. Perhaps she was surprised Ruby wasn't asking about the scene from before. She stood, reaching up with the remote to turn off the television.

That was when the news show flashed, the words 'Breaking News' appearing on the screen. Seeing those words, Sabrina flinched and her hand shot up to her lip, massaging her scar with one finger. She went to turn it off but Ruby called out.

"Turn that up, would you?" Ruby was looking at Sabrina closely. Sabrina just nodded and turned the volume up.

"We are told that the musician Bridge, who was the headline act for the weekend For the People festival, has been involved in a serious accident. Initial reports inform of fourth-degree burns to the neck and face. It is said that he is in a critical, but stable, condition at the Kingston Hospi-"

The television switched off as Sabrina clicked the power button, her other hand covering her mouth. She looked pale, even sickly.

Ruby took a step forward, opened her mouth, and shut it again. Her mind was whirling. She ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. "I… I thought it was a coincidence." Ruby looked at Sabrina sadly. Sabrina looked back without a response, her hand lightly shaking over her mouth. "When you turned the steering wheel of the bus before… you turned it before those cars turned the corner. As if you _knew _they were coming." Ruby sighed. "Then your outburst from before… and now… now this?" Ruby let out a short, sad laugh. "It was Bridge, wasn't it? You said it was a clue… that clue was about Bridge, right? It's obvious now I think about it…" Ruby walked towards Sabrina, reaching out for her shoulder. Sabrina drew away, breathing hard through her fingers. "Something is… something is seriously… wrong… I don't understand what it is but… something is undeniably wrong and you know about it. It's not a coincidence, it can't be a coincidence."

"Ruby… I…" Sabrina voice was quiet, barely audible. She drew her hand away from her mouth, quivering all the while. "Please… I don't want to-"

"Explain what the hell is going on." Ruby said firmly.

"I… don't…" Sabrina stepped sideways and looked at the door. Ruby caught her thoughts and quickly stood in front of the only exit of the room before Sabrina could move.

"You need to explain this to me, Sabrina. The bus, that… vision, Bridge's 'accident', explain that to me!"

Sabrina grit her teeth, her hands clenching into fists as if she were fighting with something within herself. She shook her head. "No… no, I can't… I don't… don't make me…"

Ruby marched forward firmly, needing answers. With one quick motion, she slapped Sabrina hard on the cheek. Sabrina stumbled from the force and stared at Ruby with wide eyes. Ruby took another deep breath. "Something is obviously up, Sabrina, stop fooling around. You're hiding something. I don't know what, but you're hiding something." Ruby reached forward and placed her hands on Sabrina's shoulders. Sabrina flinched but didn't move away. "You can trust me. Whatever it is you are holding in your heart, you can tell me. I'm your friend. I can listen. If I'm honest, you're scaring me. I feel like… like I'm in some kind of danger. So tell me what this all means."

"I… I… I…" Sabrina continued to fight with herself, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm… a… a…"

"It's okay, Sabrina. Just let it out."

"I'm a v-visionary." After saying these three words, Sabrina seemed to sag in relief, as if she were holding something very heavy and had been offered help to hold it. "I'm a visionary." She repeated, tasting the words. Sabrina looked up and saw the questions she wanted to ask. "I saw that bus accident… just before it happened. I saw everyone on that bus… die. Me included. If I didn't do something, we would have all died, just like I saw. That's what is called a vision."

Ruby gasped lightly, realizing something. "You've had a… vision… before, haven't you? Your scars?"

"Exactly…" Sabrina moved backwards and sat on the edge of the bed. "Back then… I… I couldn't save anybody. My family, my friends, the people I loved… they all died."

"…and what about Bridge? That clue which hinted at that accident he had."

"He was supposed to die." Sabrina said. "Someone must have saved him…"

"What do you mean he was 'supposed' to die?"

"Because I caused us to avoid that crash… the people on that bus was put on a list… a list of death. The order that they died on the bus is the order that they will die out here now; and if you are saved… like Bridge apparently was, then you're skipped to the end of the list. There isn't any way to stop it. The only way it stops… is if everyone dies. As a visionary, I get clues of what the next death will be, so that I can try to stop it."

"…why didn't you tell me?" Ruby asked, trying to understand what she was being told. "If we're in danger… why didn't you tell us?"

"You'd think I was crazy…" Sabrina shook her head. "Besides, what's the point? I can't _save_ anyone. I can only delay the inevitable."

"That's… that's not right. You must be able to do something… we can't just…"

"I can't do anything, Ruby, okay? We'll all die, one by one."

"But you just said it yourself… you can be skipped."

"You're not listening!" Sabrina said, exasperated. "All that does is put it off."

"So what? Then you just save them – again and again."

Sabrina laughed, shaking her head. "Do you want to live the rest of your life like that? Every day, under the threat of death? Every day knowing that your clock is ticking? Every day having to save someone else, then save yourself, then repeat that in a never-ending circle. That's no way to live."

"So you're saying we just die!?" Ruby demanded. "You're saying that we shouldn't tell anyone, that we should just lay down and wait for the deadline?"

"We're not heroes, Ruby. No one is. Hell, most of the time visionaries can't save anyone. Out of the people on that bus, over half of them will be dead by the week's end."

"But you're just giving up-"

"What do you suggest I do, Ruby? There is literally no point to push that deadline away in a futile attempt."

"Every day we live is worth it, wouldn't you say?" Ruby said quietly. "We, as humans, naturally will die. But we put it off by looking both ways on the street, or by making sure we don't put electronics in water, or by wearing safety vests. Every day of our lives we are taking measures to put off death. Is this… is this so different?" Ruby looked up to Sabrina. "So you can't save them because you're not a hero… I understand that, I do. But people aren't just born 'heroes'. It's the actions they take to save lives that make them heroes. When a fireman goes into a fire, he makes that conscious choice. When he comes out of that fire with a baby, he is hailed as a hero. Because of his own actions. So... you have every possibility to be a hero.

"You cannot let these people die without even a warning. You owe it to them to try your very best. You owe it to me… you owe it to yourself."

Sabrina stared at Ruby, surprised. When she had first met her, she seemed aloof, perhaps even ditzy. But she had a serious side to her, an intelligent side.

"Let's save them." Ruby said. "At least let's try to. If we're careful… if we analyse those clues of yours… don't you think it's possible? Is it not better to die knowing that we did our very best? Rather than dying knowing that we didn't do all we could have done?"

She was right. Sabrina lived all her life knowing that she might have been able to do something to save her family. She was haunted by that day. Now… Now, unlike back then, she knew what was going on. She had the knowledge… that could save lives. Bridge had survived by some kind of interference, but how lucky would the others get? Ruby was right… she owed it to them to try.

"Okay…" Sabrina nodded. "Okay… let's try…"

Ruby smiled. "So that list… who was after Bridge?"

"It was…" Sabrina closed her eyes, trying to remember. "It was Charlie Walker."

"Let's find Eddy then, so that we can contact Charlie. After that we can try and call in everyone to talk to them. Explain this situation and see what happens."

**Thanks to Yajuu_Kikuishi for your review! So we're getting a little bit more into Sabrina and also we know the next person. Charlie Walker, eh? Will he get out of his predicament much like Bridge did? Shorter chapter only because I didn't want to put anything else to ruin the flow :D**

'**Till next time!**


	13. The Reason

_11:40_

Adam Treeland stood in the lobby of the hotel, admiring the classic style of décor. Dark wooden floorboards were covered by ornate rugs while the few chairs in the lobby were comfy and plump, the kind you'd find at a grandparent's house. A chandelier hung from the roof, peering over the staircase which led up to the first floor. On either side of the staircase were two elevators doors, the only visible metal.

He took a moment to take this all in before making his way over to the front desk where a young perky lady sat, blonde hair completely straightened and a bright smile on her face.

"Hi there, how may I help you?" she asked brightly.

"I'm here to visit someone staying here." Adam said, wondering for a moment what he was even doing here. Jacey had called him, asking him to visit her because she was feeling down about the prior events with the bus. Adam didn't know Jacey all that well despite the fact they had talked for a long while by that tree. Then again, he couldn't just ignore someone who had asked for him.

"Okay." The woman beamed, rummaging in the desk for a moment before pulling out a small label. She offered it to Adam, who took it and looked at it. It was a simple label, with a pin on the back, reading 'GUEST'. "Please wear that when you are on our property." She turned the computer at her side and tapped on some keys. "What is your name?"

"Adam Treeland. That's spelled t-r-e-e-l-a-n-d."

"Thank you. And who are you visiting?"

"Jacey Rae Callibaster… she's a guest from the, uh, festival."

"Yes… okay, thank you." She turned back to Adam. "Please enjoy your visit."

Adam nodded his thanks and moved to the elevator. Jacey was on the fourth floor, along with the rest of the people on the bus. He took the small metal box up to the fourth floor and stepped out into the red-carpeted hallway. "Room 405," Adam reminded himself, quickly finding the door on his left. He knocked on the door.

It opened almost immediately, Jacey standing in the doorway was a shy smile on her face. "Adam… thanks for coming, come in." She opened the door, allowing Adam to enter the fancy room.

"Nice place," he commented. It was much better than the apartment he lived in. He turned back to Lacey. "Why did you call on me?"

"I was… feeling a bit down." Jacey said quietly, walking over to a chair in the corner of the hotel room. "After what happened… you know."

"Everyone was affected by what happened. I'm not sure if I can help you."

"Can't we… I dunno, talk?" Jacey asked, now seated on the chair. Adam read her body language closely. She was acting… peculiar, as if she was resisting something. She didn't seem anything like the mysterious girl when they had talked that night. Even her clothes and makeup seemed more garish in the hotel room light.

Adam shrugged, leaning on the wall across from her. "I'm honestly not sure what to say. What happened was horrible… but, well, we didn't know the people that died. It'll feel weird at first, but ultimately that feeling will disappear after a little while."

"I… I didn't mean talk about what happened… just… talk about something."

"Like what?"

"What kind of stuff do you like?" Jacey asked.

Adam sighed to himself. He didn't feel like chatting about himself. "Look… I'm sorry, but I'm not really in the mood to talk. If you wanted me here just to talk-"

"You were talking fine by the tree." Jacey said, crossing her arms. "What's so different now?"

"I was watching a video of myself getting beating the crap out of." Adam said firmly. "I wasn't exactly in my normal state of mind, alright? I was just miserable and talking to someone was a good way to get my mind off it."

"Oh…" Jacey voice was even quieter. Adam watched her eyes scan him. He didn't want to seem cold.

"I like reading… and drawing." Adam said.

"Really?" Jacey's eyes lit up. "Why?"

"Why? I-I guess just to escape reality, you know? Reality sucks a lot of the time. But by reading a really good book or getting into a complicated drawing, you can escape into that world." Adam often escaped into the worlds he created on paper or the words of a book; it was something which got him through a lot of his life, before he met Nathan.

Jacey stood up and stepped forward. Adam took note of this, feeling an unsettling feeling in his stomach. "What type of stuff do you draw?"

"Environments, mostly… fantasy worlds, the type with mythical creatures."

"And knights in shining armor?"

"…I guess. I've never drawn…" Adam froze as Jacey's hand touched his arm, just at the crook of the elbow. He drew in breath and his body stiffened.

"I've always liked stories about knights and princesses…" Jacey said, her hand moving from his elbow and up to his shoulder. Her fingers were soft, her nails slightly pressing on his skin. "The handsome knight saving the helpless princess from whatever monster is keeping her in the tower. It's… so satisfying."

Adam felt her other hand on his bare leg, slowly moving up to the hem of his shorts. He wanted her to stop but he was stuck in place, unable to move. He was trying to push back horrible memories but was unable to stop them from seeping into his mind.

Jacey leaned forward, her hair brushing his neck. He could feel her breath against his face. _Stop… stop this… I don't want this… stop this! _Adam wanted to tell her this, to get this to stop, but his mouth refused to work. He moved his eyes frantically, trying to get the message across. Jacey obviously took his lack of protest as acceptance and she leaned forward closer, her soft lips brushing his. _No… no, no, no… stop, stop… please, please! _

He could feel her putting pressure on his lips. He tried to keep them shut but once again his mouth refused to obey. Her tongue slid through his lips, twirling around his own. Jacey pushed him back against the wall, easily pushing his unresponsive body. The hand on his thigh snaked its way up to his waist and fiddled with the button of his shorts.

At this feeling, Adam pushed frantically past his terror and his hands followed suit, pushing into Jacey's shoulders and shoved her away with intense force. She flew backwards in surprise, the back of her legs hitting the bed and slamming her back first on the mattress. Adam panted, quickly doing his shorts button back up. He ran a hand through his hair, teeth gritted. "What… the hell… was that…?" He tried to resist the urge to shout and scream.

Jacey blinked rapidly on the bed, still shocked. "I… I-"

"You know I'm gay!" Adam snapped, trying hard to control his breathing.

"It's not what you think-"

"Oh, it's not is it?" Adam hissed. "Well I'm sorry if it looked you were trying to get me in bed!"

"No, no, I wasn't-"

"You weren't?! Bullshit!" Adam squeezed his fists shut. "Your hands told the whole goddamn story!"

Jacey blinked away tears, pulling herself up to a seated position, shaking her head. "No, I wasn't going to, please believe you."

"So what were you planning on doing, huh?"

"I just wanted to… to… to touch you…" Jacey said, her bottom lip quivering.

Adam was taken aback by this. He wasn't expecting that answer. His anger simmered down. "…touch me?" he echoed, his voice hoarse.

"I… I realize what it looked like… I thought you were okay with it…" Jacey stood up from the bed, hugging herself tightly. "I like girls! I wasn't going to do anything sexual… I'm a lesbian…" At Adam's look, her eyes pleaded with him. "Please, believe me, I am a lesbian… but… but… a man's body… that… physically, I just… want to touch a man's body… to feel the muscles and proportions… I didn't want to have sex, I didn't!"

Adam didn't know what to think. He wanted to believe her, he did. But he had never heard anything so ridiculous as a woman who claimed to only want to touch a man without going further. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "…we barely know each other… even if I did want it, which I did not, you still shouldn't have done it within days of meeting me."

Jacey seemed relieved that the anger was gone out of his voice. "I know, it was wrong but… but you're just so intriguing! As I said at the tree, I've met many gay men… but none like you. You're not flamboyant or extravagant… and you look so handsome… I just couldn't resist… I…" Jacey hung her head, wiping her eyes, smearing black make-up over her face. "You didn't tell me to stop… so I just… just went with my feeling…"

"You're right... I should have pushed you away sooner…"

"Why didn't you?" Jacey asked. "Do you like woman as well, is that-"

"Do you know _why_ I'm gay?" Adam interrupted.

"You didn't mention…"

"I'm an orphan." Adam said, sagging onto a nearby chair. He looked to Jacey, his eyes telling her to listen. She back down on the bed, listening now. "My family… they died in a fire when I was eight. My dad, my mom… my little brother." He was struggling to get the words out, but he needed to tell her, to make her understand. "I was carted to foster family after foster family, but it never worked. Finally I landed with a nice couple. I thought it was going to be okay. I was eight… I was young… I could move on from their deaths because truth be told I hardly knew them… and Liam and Patricia were nice, they were… I thought that it would be okay…"

Adam found his eyes growing wet but he didn't do anything to stop the tears. It was good to cry sometimes. "When I was twelve… Liam came into my room. He… He told me to undress… that he was going to bathe me…" Adam looked to floor, remembering that day clearly. "I was so young… I thought knew it was odd, but his force was so forceful I just… I just obeyed. He brought me into the bathroom and left me in there. He left me alone… only Patricia was standing there in the nude. She said we were going to play some games…" Adam stopped talking for a moment, the words catching in his throat. "She… she…"

"You don't have to say…" Jacey whispered, her face showing how aghast she was at the story.

"Well anyway… that went on for months… After the first time I tried to get it to stop but Liam always forced me in the bathroom… I couldn't do a thing while Patricia did it. Eventually I ran away… I had to get out, I didn't want the pain… so I just ran. I ran for so long… until I was picked up by a policeman. I trusted him as a member of the police, so I told him everything. About Liam, about Patricia. Thankfully they were imprisoned for it… the evidence was in the bathroom… it was everything that was needed to be convicted.

"I spent the next couple of years in an orphanage because I couldn't trust being alone with adults. As I grew I started thinking about girls like any fourteen year old boy is want to do. When I was sixteen, I managed to get into a relation with a girl… Catherine. We hit it off, I was attracted by her, and I thought our first night would be okay. Then she touched me… and I… I couldn't handle it. Memories of Patricia came back to me and I just… panicked. I was so scared, so terrified, overcome by this uncontrollable fear. Catherine obviously dumped me after that.

"I always read about these love stories about husband and wife meeting when they were young and I wanted that, I wanted to be in that story so bad. But no matter what, whenever a woman touches me I just freeze up. Then… I found out about men. About homosexuality. I wondered… I wondered if that could be my gateway to a loving relationship. I hooked up with a boy in my class…" Adam smiled under his wet cheeks. "That night was the best in my life. He was so comforting… and I realized that I could get that story I wanted – only it would be with a man, not a woman."

Jacey had grown completely quiet, just looking at Adam. Adam stood up.

"I cannot handle a woman's touch… what Patricia did to me… it scarred me. I'm gay because I have no other choice if I want to be happy. That's why I didn't push you away… because I simply couldn't."

"I'm… I'm so sorry…" Jacey said, her shoulders shaking.

"Don't be. You didn't know. Now you do. So just… just don't do anything like that again… please… you're a kind girl, you really are, and I would love to be your friend. But I can't be anything more than that, okay?"

Jacey nodded. "Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Grojbandian180 for your review! So… I was going to have multiple character focuses this chapter… but just like last chapter, I don't think any other perspectives would suit. We'll get multiple focuses next chapter. **

**So Adam has confided in Jacey about his sad story. Definitely one of the sadder scenes – if not the saddest – I've written for this story thus far.**

**By the way, I was planning on having every chapter a song title… but, well, that proved a whole lot harder than I thought so I'm going back to normal chapter names. An internet cookie if you can get all the songs from the previous chapters. **

'**Till next time!**


	14. Ghosts

_12:00_

Jace Ryan didn't believe in ghosts. He needed proof to believe things, and there was simply no proof that ghosts existed. Proof was the same reason he was an atheist, the same reason he didn't believe in monsters, bogey-men, things that went bump in the night. But despite the fact that he didn't believe in ghosts, that didn't stop Maylene from standing in the corner, staring at him. Her eyes were accusing. No matter how much he tried to look away from her, his eyes were always drawn towards her. She looked the same as she did the last time Jace had saw her.

Her hair was sprawled over her face, her neck jerked to the left with a vivid red line encircling it. She wore a black dress, a dress Jace had brought her for her birthday. Her feet were bare, her skin pale as milk. Jace put a hand to his cheek, his scar throbbing painfully.

Maylene wasn't a ghost, Jace knew that much. She couldn't be. Perhaps it was some kind of hallucination, or remnants of a nightmare. Ghosts didn't exist.

He pulled on his scrunched up shirt and a pair of ripped jeans without a thought to his fashion and ran a hand through his hair. The Festival was supposed to have been something to get his mind off things, but in the end it had reminded him of his and Maylene's life together. They had enjoyed music together, gone to festivals together, and being alone at a festival was horrible. It was a mistake to come here.

Then the bus crash, those people dying… it just got worse and worse. He pulled on a pair of worn sneakers, Maylene staring at him. He glanced away, trying his best to ignore her. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. Judging by the light coming through the closed curtains, it must have been about lunch-time. Ever since Maylene had killed herself he had been waking up later and later. Jace hurried out of the room, leaving Maylene behind, and made his way downstairs to get something to eat.

At least everything in this hotel was free, courtesy of Eddy Cool's generosity. The eating area was a large room, white cloth covering oak tables. A couple of people who were staying at the hotel were eating lunch, happy couples, old women, brooding men. Jace noticed that the other survivors who were staying at the hotel had migrated into one of the corners – sitting at separate tables, but still grouped together. He shrugged and made his way over. Perhaps he could strike up conversation to get his mind off Maylene. Maybe with the nice German lady or the guy in the beanie.

As Jace sat down, he noticed Maylene sitting in the chair next to him, looking at him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. She was still sitting there, her eyes wide and her mouth a thin line.

"Hey, you hear the news?"

Jace looked up to the man in the beanie who had pulled up a chair opposite him. He took no notice of Maylene. Well, that confirmed that only Jace could see her, anyhow. The young man was all smiles. "What news?"

"Well, we can't go home."

"What do you mean?" Jace scratched at the stubble on his neck. He was planning on going home relatively soon.

"Eddy Cool got a call from some kind of agency – not the police. They want to talk to all of the survivors of the bus." The man shrugged. "Weird, if you ask me." He glanced at Jace and chuckled. "Good point, I haven't introduced myself. Corey Walker, you may have caught my name of the bus."

"Jace."

"Nice to meet you." Corey fiddled with a napkin that was lying on the table. "I'm thinking that there's something weird going on…" Corey leaned forward, his eyes just peeking out from underneath the brim of his beanie. "I reckon they're here to talk to that Sabrina girl."

"Why would they want to talk to her?" Jace only knew Sabrina because she was hailed as the person who had got the bus to avoid major disaster and saved their lives. She seemed like a normal enough girl.

"…well… I could have sworn that she turned the steering wheel of the bus _before _those cars came around the corner." Corey leaned back. "I wonder if that's what this… agency… wants to talk to us about? It'll be cool… I wonder if they're like the FBI or CIA or something?"

Jace shrugged.

"Either way, it's gonna make for a cool story to tell friends about." Corey glanced away from the table and looked directly at Maylene. For a moment, Jace thought he had noticed the girl, but instead he nodded towards the entrance to the hall. "Speak of the devil."

Turning, Jace saw Sabrina and the pink-haired girl enter. Sabrina looked slightly pale while the girl, Ruby he remembered, was smiling. He noticed that a lot of the people from the bus seemed to be relatively happy, even the ones not at the hotel. Ruby, Corey, Lily, Eddy… a lot of them were all smiles. Jace wondered what it was that gave them that spirit. Did they have people they loved or some kind of understanding of the world that he didn't have? He wasn't afraid to admit that he was slightly jealous of their happiness.

The two walked straight over to the corner and stayed standing, drawing the attention from the others straight away. Corey adjusted his beanie and Emma frowned. Ruby glanced around. "Where is… uh, Jacey?"

"Isn't that her?" Corey pointed towards the doorway. This time it was Jacey coming out, along with a tall young man with glasses. Adam, the same name as that rookie musician.

"Perfect." Ruby clapped her hands together. Jacey looked confused as she approached the corner.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

"Sit." Ruby asked enthusiastically, as if they weren't all strangers. Jacey and Adam sat down hesitantly. "We need to talk." Sabrina stood awkwardly next to her, looking nervous.

"Is this about the agency guys?" Corey asked.

"Agency…?" Ruby blinked. "What agency?" Jace noticed Sabrina's eyes widen for barely a second before she shook her head quickly. _What was that about?_

Corey sunk in his chair; disappointed no-one seemed to know what this agency was. "Some agency called Eddy Cool and told him to keep us here so that they can ask us questions."

"Did they say who they were?" Sabrina asked sharply.

"Uh… I have no idea. Eddy didn't tell me I just… kind'a listened in."

"What about when they get here?"

Corey shrugged again. "Still no idea."

"Well, anyway," Ruby continued, trying to keep the attention of her five listeners. "I want to talk to you guys about something… kind of weird. It's sort of hard to believe but can I ask that you do us the favour of listening?"

"What is it about?" Emma asked.

Ruby took a breath and smiled brightly. "It's about the bus crash. Because we avoided death, we're now added on a… list, so to speak." She looked around all the blank faces. Her cheeks reddened slightly. "Uh, let me explain."

* * *

><p><em>12:13<em>

Charlie was sitting in the corner of a nice little pub, drinking a pint of beer slowly. Elijah sat opposite him with a glass of water. Elijah slowly swirled it with a straw, looking at Charlie. Ever since he fractured his jaw in prison and was forced to drink through a straw for a few weeks, he couldn't stop himself from using straws whenever available. Elijah glanced around the comfortable little pub. "Nice place," he said, trying to prompt conversation out of the quiet Charlie. Charlie was generally a quiet man when he wasn't on stage, but lately he had been near mute. Maybe it was his daughter… Elijah knew that Charlie had come close to hitting her and that had been bugging him badly.

Charlie didn't respond to the prompt and took a sip of the beer, not even wiping away the suds that stayed on his moustache. Elijah much preferred clubs and bars to pubs. He preferred the noise and activity – whether that be from teenagers dancing like wild men or adults cheering for the latest football match. Pubs were generally quiet places, it seemed. Dulled.

"Charlie… you can't just stay mute forever."

The big man looked up from under the brim of his cowboy hat and shook his head. "It's stupid really, Elijah."

"What is?"

"I got a phone call from Eddy…" Charlie took another sip of the beer and this time ran his sleeve across his upper lip. "Two of the gals on the bus have said I'm on some kind of list… that I'm gonna die soon if we don't do anythin' about it." Charlie shook his head. "It's stupid… Eddy didn't believe it, I don't _want _to believe it… but I can't stop that thought nigglin' in the back of my head. It seems… It seems everythin' has been going bad to worse since the festival… I can almost believe that I'm gonna be under threat, seems like natural progression."

"…A list?" Elijah didn't even know how to react to that.

"I've no idea, nor did Eddy. The gals made him promise to tell me, though." Charlie took a deep breath and stared into the depths of his drink. "I don't think I can do this no more."

"What do you mean?" Elijah said sharply. He had known many people who were bordering on depression say that very same thing… and Elijah always found himself standing next to a gravestone not long after.

Charlie chuckled grimly. "Don't get your tail in a twist, I ain't gonna off myself. I just meant the music business."

"Oh…" Elijah stroked his chin in thought. "Why?"

"I… I think I'm paying too much attention to the music and not enough to my daughter… I mean, she's practically a stranger to me… She was scared of me after her mother died… and I never managed to be the father she needed since there weren't no female around to help her."

Elijah didn't say anything. This was something Charlie needed to figure out. Elijah was neither going to support nor object to the decision.

"I need to do somethin' about her before she drives herself to an early grave. Drugs? I can't believe it… she's trying to be independent, I admire that, but no-one has told her where the line is. So she keeps on headin' over that line, further and further away from it until it hangs back in the distance…"Charlie's eyes had glazed over. "Jesus Christ, Elijah… I killed the woman I loved and I took her away from Bonny…" Charlie held his hands out in front of him, as if seeing his wife's blood dripping from his fingers. "I'm… so scared… I'm so scared that one day Bonny is gonna do something and I just…" Charlie trailed off, his voice hoarse.

"You aren't that man anymore." Elijah said firmly. "We've down a lot of work together Charlie. The man you were that night is not the man you are today. I just think the stress of the business as well as your daughter is causing you to lose grips with who you are."

"I can't lose grips with who I am… 'cause I don't _know _who I am… I sing and I make my fans happy but what use is makin' my fans happy when I can't make Bonny happy?"

"Howdy, cowboy." The exaggerated drawl caused Elijah and Charlie to turn their heads towards two men approaching. One in a trilby and the other thick like a tree trunk.

"Who are you?" Charlie asked.

"The name's Eugene Hawk, and this here's my partner Harold Kelly. We're members of the DSI and we'd like to ask you some questions." Eugene grinned as he showed them identification.

"The what?" Elijah asked, not liking the look of these men. They were shifty, dressing up like detectives with slight deviations from the norm. Eugene looked too messy and Harold too cold.

"The Department of Supernatural Investigation." Eugene answered, slipping the identification into his coat. He looked at the duo as if he had not said anything weird.

"…Supernatural?" Elijah raised an eyebrow. What were these guys, like Ghostbusters or something?

"Yes, supernatural. Ghosts, zombies, whatever you please." Eugene leaned forward and said with a whisper, "not that I believe in ghosts OR zombies."

"Don't you need permission to ask questions?" Elijah asked. He didn't know what Charlie would say. He didn't drink enough to get angry anymore, only one a day.

"Indeed we do." Eugene turned to Charlie. "And do we?"

"Fine." Charlie grunted. The identification looking real enough. He nodded to Elijah, trying to tell him it was alright.

"We won't be long." Eugene drew out a piece of paper and showed it them. "You know this girl?"

"She was on the bus with us." Elijah answered quickly, making sure Charlie couldn't answer. Something about these men made him not want to cooperate fully, keep things vague. He guessed that these men already knew about the bus, since they had that scarred girl's image.

"Telling the truth from the get-go, always a good start." Eugene said sarcastically. "We're well away she was on the bus. Did you notice anything unusual about Sabrina Holland on the bus?"

"She saved our lives." Charlie said. "If you want to count that as unusual." It seemed he also didn't trust these men. Neither mentioned the fact that Sabrina seemed to get to the wheel early. They had talked about it in murmurs after the accident.

"Nothing else you noticed? Some peculiar action?" Eugene tilted his head. "Nothing at all?"

"I didn't notice anything else."

"Okay." Eugene clapped his hands together. "Told you I'd be quick." He and Harold started to move away before Eugene stopped and turned around, his eyes shadowed menacingly under his trilby. "Be very careful about what Sabrina Holland tells you. Things go bad around her. People die." Eugene stared for a full five seconds before breaking out into a grin. "See you around, cowboy." He spun around and strode out of the pub, followed closely by the quiet Harold.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Grodbandian180 for the Review! The question of the day is Marlene. Is her 'ghost' real? Or not? Well, I'm answer that later and we'll find out whether this story will have more supernatural elements than just Death. We'll see :D**

**For now, I'm going to try and get a chapter out every Sunday and Wednesday. I need to just get into a comfortable, safe rhythm before going back to my old update patterns from last year. Having a long break has screwed up my rhythm, that's for sure. So we'll see how Sunday's and Wednesday's will turn out (Well, sometimes I finish chapters VERY early the next day, like at 1 A.M.) or so, but y'know what I mean. English time, remember. **

**So, 'till next time! **


	15. Love

**A/N:- Straight away, I need to thank LocalTalent53 or his/her reviews. After my duel hard-drive crash I was kind'a down in the dumps with the writing. That was all my Final Destination Encore plans gone – the characters sheets, the future ideas, the tracking, all of it, lost. I just couldn't get myself moving to get the information back on track. But Local's recent reviews brought me out of my stupor. Local showed me just what it is I write for – I write for you, my readers, to bring you on a journey with me, to experience fleshed out characters and important plots.**

** I stopped that journey – multiple times – while writing this story. And you guys don't deserve that, and I shouldn't have stopped the chapters coming. I've been on Fanfiction since 2009 and I KNOW I can do better, I certainly have the free time for it. I screwed up, and to be frank, I deserve to be told that. I screwed up.**

** But I don't want to screw up, I want to get these chapters out, I want to bring you guys on this journey and to experience it. I want Encore to be like Revelations – which is likely the story I'm most proud of. I want this to be big… I almost NEED this to be big. And for it to become like Revelations did, I need to work out a schedule, I need to get chapters out. **

** I understand if some of you – or all of you – have stopped reading. You expect chapter releases and I didn't provide. But for those of you who still read, and for those of you who will read, I will provide for you. Through hell or high water I will get a schedule and I will get chapters out and I will make sure Encore get what it deserves. **

** After all, an encore shouldn't be worse than the previous songs, now should it? **

** Sorry for the essay, but I need to say my feelings. For those of you, who stuck around, thank you. For Local, thank you ten times more. It's time to get this train back on track and keep it rolling 'till it passes the finish line. An encore should finish everything off with a bang, not with a sizzle.**

* * *

><p><em>12:30<em>

The survivors were deathly quiet as Ruby finished up her story. Jacey seemed more pale than she usually was, her lips pursed into a straight line. Adam had his arms crossed, his eyes thick with thinking. Emma's hands were shaking, clasped on her lap. Jace blinked slowly, his eyes barely flickering to an empty chair. A half-grin stood on Corey's face, as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Sabrina was looking past the group, to a spot only she could see, her eyes blank.

Ruby gazed at each of the five survivors in turn, sparing a quick glance to Sabrina as well. She had explained about the list, about how death was now after them, about what they could do to prevent it. She had kept out anything involving Sabrina directly – they didn't need to know about that. That was something she'd work out with Sabrina later.

"So…" Corey was the first to speak, his voice scratchy. He coughed and adjusted his beanie. "…we're all on… a list? And Death is…" He shook his head, as if not believing he was saying the word 'Death' as a person. Corey closed his mouth with a faint laugh, lost for words. He brushed hair from his eyes and stared at Ruby in disbelief.

"…not to seem rude…" Emma murmured quietly, her hands tight in an iron grip. "…but how can we believe this?"

"It is crazy," Jace agreed, his voice shaky. He glanced to that chair again before looking up at Sabrina and Ruby. "…you two believe this, though, don't you?"

"We do." Ruby replied, her pink hair almost too vibrant for the situation.

"You believe it though," Sabrina spoke up, her face a mix of emotions. "Don't you?"

Jacey glanced to Adam as he nodded. "I do, at least." Adam said, standing up and curling his fingers back and forth. "…sometimes, something sounds so crazy, it has to be true."

Nodding her agreement, Jacey rubbed her hands together. "I've always wondered if there was something out there, some kind of… other being."

"So… if we do all believe… what's the plan?" Corey took off his beanie and folded it back and forth between his hands. "…what do you suggest we do about this… this scenario?"

"We fight it!" Ruby said firmly. "All we need to do is watch out for each other-"

"For the rest of our lives?" Jace interrupted. "You can't be serious. We have our own lives to get on with, we can't hang around each other. We don't even know each other."

"There isn't much choice," Ruby answered. "Either we save each other… or we die… and I don't feel like dying quite yet." The smile returned to her face. "But I'm sure we can find a solution. I know there _has _to be an answer."

"For the optimist, maybe." Jace stood up. "I'm sorry… but… the whole point was we were meant to die in that bus crash. So why are we fighting that? If our time is up, our time is up. And if… if Death is real, then he just wants what is natural to be natural."

"We are not pawns for Death." Sabrina hissed, her voice full of venom. Jace looked at her in surprise. "And we will not submit to him either. I've fought him all my life." Sabrina stared at Jace but Jace didn't back down.

"We, as humans, will live lives of misery only to end up dead anyway. Perhaps this is for the better? Perhaps it is a virtue that we would get to die early – to not experience that pain."

"Life isn't just about misery!" Ruby insisted. "With misery comes happiness. Love-"

"Is a lie." Jace replied solemnly. "Love means nothing. Love is a simple tool, for the smart to use against the foolish, for the spiders to draw us into their web-"

"Who have you lost?" Sabrina cut in, her eyes narrowed as she looked hard at Jace. Jace twitched at the sentence. "A female…" He twitched again. "Your wife? Your girlfriend. And you blame yourself for her death."

"_She _blamed me." Jace spat, losing his cool at Sabrina's tone. "And she proved to me just what love achieves."

"You poor, poor man." Sabrina shook her head and looked up. "Love is the root of everything… from families to friends… to bringing yourself out from a desperate situation." She glanced back to him. "If you are intent on ending your existence, then feel free to leave. And feel free to die. I won't mourn you."

Jace squeezed his hands shut and turned away. He took a step but then stopped, his arms shaking. He turned back around and sat down on his chair, without a word.

"I thought so." Sabrina smirked, but the smirk disappeared quickly to be replaced with a face of pain. Her hand shot to her head. "Ah…"

"What's wrong?" Ruby turned to her immediately.

"I…" Sabrina grit her teeth and teetered on her feet. Her eyes seemed to dim, turning white. The same white as the morning when she had cut Ruby's face. Ruby quickly reached out with both hands, grabbing both arms and pinning them to her side, in case Sabrina struck out again.

The squealing of wheels grated against Ruby's ears. Smoke covered her eyes, swirling around her retinas, images forming and reforming. She recognised the images, but she couldn't place them, like they were on the far edges of her memory. The mist started gathering together, forming into a figure. A thick figure, tall and well built. Unlike the previous time a figure had appeared, Ruby could recognise the figure in his hat.

Charlie Walker.

A hole appeared in the mist where his heart would be, dissipating and reforming into the figure of a girl and boy entangled in what seemed to be love-making. The ghostly, misty figure of Charlie Walker looked at them and he seemed to wither and shrink, his imposing figure turned in an instant to a frail man. The mist swirled and Charlie Walker swirled with it, disappearing into the abyss.

Ruby found herself pulled back, the air taken from her lungs. She stumbled backwards but Sabrina's firm grip caught her arm. Her eyes were blue again. Unlike the previous time, she seemed to have regained herself quickly. "You shouldn't touch me when I do that." Sabrina said quietly. "Your body can't take it."

"It doesn't matter," Ruby said breathlessly, turning back towards the five who were staring at her, confused. "That was Charlie Walker. Just like the last time was Bridge, this one was Charlie. I actually recognised him. Something's about to happen, right? We thought he was next, we need to contact him!"

* * *

><p><em>12:43<em>

Charlie Walker tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, listening to one of his favorite singers, Dolly Parton. She partly inspired his career – her songs were often loud in his house as his mother and father listened to her whenever they could. They had met, been married, and ultimately died under her voice. Her voice could calm Charlie down, and ever since that Eugene Hawk fellow he had been angry, trying to keep it down, hidden inside his chest.

He was heading to Bristol to get ready for a small gig the next day. Something small should be able to get his mind back on track, away from Eugene and Harold. Elijah had left him be, thankfully understanding that Charlie needed to be alone. Elijah always understood what Charlie needed, and knew whether to push or to leave him be.

The country road was also calming to him. It wasn't Texas, but it certainly wasn't bad. While a van drove all his equipment via the motorway, Charlie had opted to take the back country roads; full of grass, hills, and trees. Birds flew in the thankfully blue sky, while the occasional rabbit would flit across the road, ears twitching.

He was the only car on the road and hadn't seen many passing by – just the occasional car or tractor. As the opening lines of Dolly Parton's 'Jolene' hit, Charlie felt a vibration in his pocket. For a moment he considered just leaving the phone unanswered, but relented, turned the volume down. He took the mobile from his pocket, one hand on the steering wheel, and glanced at the caller ID. It was a number he didn't recognize. He put it to his ear. "Hello, Charlie Walker speakin'."

"Mr. Walker, where are you?"

"Who is this?" Charlie asked, wondering if this was a prank call.

"You may not recognise me, but I was on the bus. The girl with pink hair."

"…Ruby Ascot, wasn't it? And what would you like with me, Miss. Ascot?" Charlie always could remember names – it came with the business. Besides, the pink hair of Ruby Ascot wasn't hard to forget. How did she get his number?

"Mr. Walker, this may sound crazy, but you are in danger." She sounded restless, almost panicky.

"Danger?" Charlie humoured her. He was too polite just to hang up at the sound of crazy talk.

"I can't explain properly on the phone, but you are very likely to be involved in something dangerous very soon, something that will kill you."

"…and where did this information come from?" Charlie decided that if she didn't say anything useful he'd hang up.

A moment of silence. "Elijah called me. He was worried about you."

"Elijah?" This perked Charlie's interest. He turned a corner on the road. "What'd he tell you?"

"He was… he was worried about you. He thought maybe you'd be in danger after the bus crash, thought it might have affected you badly…"

"Oh?" Charlie found a smile appear under his facial hair. "And were you aware that I've talked with Elijah just this morning?"

"…I… he called me just after."

"At what time?"

"I..."

"Do not bother me again, Miss. Ascot. You already have my autograph." Charlie shut the phone down with a sigh and adjusted his hat, humoured by the attempts of a crazy fan.

* * *

><p><em>12:47<em>

"He hung up!" Ruby exclaimed. "I need to call him again." She started pressing the button on her vibrantly green phone. She had managed to get Charlie's number from Eddy Cool by pretending to have possession of something he had forgotten at the festival.

Sabrina grabbed her arm, squeezing it. "He isn't going to listen the second time. You tried. That's all that matters."

"But he's in danger and we need to stop something from happening. The only reason Bridge survived was because someone was watching him! Charlie sounded like he was in a car, and it sounded like he was alone." Ruby bit her lip. "We have to do something!"

"We can't do anything else. We have warned him." Sabrina said.

"…what are we doing about it now, then?" Corey asked, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

"We wait and we listen to the news. If someone as famous as Charlie Walker dies, the news will be all over it." Sabrina answered grimly.

* * *

><p><em>12:50<em>

Almost only twenty seconds after the call with Ruby had ended, he got another call. Charlie glanced at the phone but recognised the number this time. He turned a corner, finding himself behind a truck carrying some kind of building supplies and a car with the radio cranked on loud.

"Eddy." Charlie answered the call.

"Charlie, my man. I'm calling because I think I just got tricked into giving away your number and-"

"I've had the call, Eddy." Charlie responded, shaking his head. "It was just a crazy fan, spoutin' some nonsense 'bout my death. They claimed they had spoken with Elijah, though that was an outright lie. The second time I've heard I'm gonna die soon. At least you didn't believe it."

"I thought I didn't believe it…" Eddy sounded troubled, Charlie could hear the tone of his voice on the other side of the phone.

"What's wrong, Eddy?"

"Nothing… it's just…" Eddy took a breath. "A couple of men visited me today… from an agency, the ones keepin' everyone in England."

"Oh?"

"…and they started talking about the same things the two gals told me about. They didn't confirm any kind of list, but they warned me about the blonde girl, Sabrina Holland. Apparently she was dangerous."

"Ruby Ascot was the one who phoned me."

"Who was with Sabrina when they phoned me this morning. Charlie… what with Joe and the policeman's death… and Bridge's near miss… keep yourself safe, alright?"

"You're gettin' paranoid, Eddy. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to me."

The phone made noises at his ear and Charlie looked at the screen, seeing another call coming in. Charlie narrowed his eyes. "Eddy, I gotta go. My daughter is calling me."

"Keep an eye out, Charlie."

"Bye, Eddy." Charlie stopped the call and took a deep breath. Was today just to get on his nerves? Eugene and Harold, the phone call, now Eddy… and Bonny was phoning him now too. He took another second to compose himself as the car with the loud music overtook the truck. He answered the call. "Bonny."

"Daddy." Her voice sounded slightly groggy, as if she had just woken up. Trust her to wake up at lunch time.

Charlie prompted her after a moment of silence. "Yes?"

"I… I want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday mornin'… I was out of line… and you only want what's best for me, I understand that…"

This took Charlie by surprise. His daughter was headstrong and stubborn – she usually waited for Charlie to apologize. "Honey… that's water under the bridge. It doesn't matter, just an argument."

"It does matter, daddy. I can't be treatin' you like that. You're only doin' your best."

"My best ain't good enough at the moment, Bonny. I almost hit you this mornin'."

"But you didn't. I know you're trying… I know those meetings are workin'… you are a better man, dad. Mamma's smilin' up in heaven, I know it."

This hit Charlie harder than he expected. He cleared his throat. "…thank you, darlin'. That means… that means a lot to me."

"Keep workin' it out. You'll get there, I know you will. I…" Bonny started saying something but stopped. She cleared her throat. "I'm going to stay with Zack, so you don't have to worry about paying for two hotel rooms."

"You… what?" Charlie's anger flashed back in an instant at the name of the boy who had got his daughter taking drugs and all manner of things. "Zack?"

"Daddy-"

"Don't tell me you just forgave me as a means for getting me to allow this."

"No, daddy, it's not like that!" Bonny exclaimed back, her anger heard clear in her voice as well. "I really did want to forgive you! I mean, Zack was the one who suggested I call-"

That was something Charlie did not want to hear at that point. "…Zack… and I hope you're not as stupid as you seem to be lately and you realised what he wanted, right?"

"Stupid? I'm not stupid, daddy! Look, I called you, I forgave you, and all you wanna do is put me down again?"

"You didn't forgive me. Don't play the fool, you'll never forgive me for what happened with your mother. The only reason you called was to get me to be complacent with your schemes."

"Stop over dramatizing things, daddy, schemes, really? I was forgiving you! What do you want me to say? You're a horrible father who has no time for his daughter, that you're too dangerous to be around, that mamma's not smilin' in heaven because there is no heaven and she's just gone from this world 'cause you killed her-"

"You shut your mouth right now, young lady!" Charlie growled, his eyes snapping away from the road.

"Well, what do you want to hear?!" Bonny shouted back. "No matter what I try, your paranoia thinks I have an ulterior motive! I don't! I want a father, and I'm willing to forgive, but you just can't accept that, can you!"

"Forgiveness works better face to face, not over the phone, Bonny."

"Well I'm sorry for the fact that you left without sayin' goodbye, daddy! I hadn't a chance to talk with you."

"You've had every chance to talk to me. Just instead of talkin' with me, you hang out with Zack and do things you're gonna regret. Bonny, I've had a fuckin' crappy day, talk with me after you get back your senses and get rid of-"

Charlie never got to finish his sentence. With his eyes away from the road, he failed to see the truck in front of him come to a stop to let another car turn out from a connecting road. Charlie's car hit the back of the truck at full force, throwing him forward in his seat. His face slammed against the steering wall, his nose giving out an audible crack.

Blinking, Charlie slowly moved his head backwards, his back stinging and his nose pulsing. He sat up straight with effort, one hand going to his nose. At only a touch it sent shivers of pain through his head.

"Daddy?"

The voice was faint, coming from his phone hanging loosely in his other hand. Charlie stared at it blankly, his thoughts not coming together clearly. At the sound of scraping he looked back up to the truck. The truck was carrying scaffolding and building materials – pipes, heavy bags of cement, metal girders, thick rebar. They had been strapped on over the back of the truck's trailer, extending down the back. When Charlie had crashed into the back, the straps had snapped from the force and the pile of rebar was slowly moving downwards.

Charlie stared at them, his mind still not working out the kinks. "Daddy?" A concussion, Charlie thought blankly. Probably a concussion. Blood had coated his jaw and spattered onto his chest. "Daddy, are you there?" Charlie turned his head towards movement on the other side of the truck. The driver had come out and was walking towards him, shouting unintelligibly. "What was that noise, Daddy!" Charlie looked to his seatbelt and managed to piece together he probably should get out. He fiddled with the button but his hands felt numb and thick. He decided to give up. He could stay in the car, right? Another thought hit him.

_Shouldn't there be an air bag? English cars have air bags as well, don't they? Maybe they don't… I don't know how English cars work… heh, work… my gig is gonna have to be cancelled now… _Charlie looked to the shouting man, who seemed to be waving his hands back and forth. _Elijah ain't gonna be happy with me… bein' on the phone… and I crashed… I suppose the police won't be happy either… ah… I can get bailed out though… Elijah or Bonny… Bonny… _Charlie blinked, his brain making the connections. He looked at the phone, his neck objecting the movement. Her voice was still coming from it. He brought it up to his ear. "Bonny…"

The pile of rebar slipped from the back of the truck and tumbled down towards the car. They clattered off the front and hit the windshield, sending cracks criss-crossing outwards. One pierced the windshield and hit Charlie right in the middle of the chest, sticking him to his seat. Charlie blinked, the phone to his ear, and glanced down at the piece of rebar. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have gotten out of the car after all.

"Daddy, you're alright, aren't you?"

Charlie stared at the blood bubbling out of his chest in faint interest. The only thing he felt was an odd sensation which he supposed was his heart trying to pump… trying to, but failing… Charlie finally realized that the rebar must have hit his heart. He opened his mouth to reply to Bonny, not entirely sure what to say, but maybe something along the lines of 'I love you.' Instead of his voice, blood came out of his mouth in a wracking cough, spraying the broken windshield in crimson. Charlie let his arms drop, the phone slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor of the car. He let himself rest… resting would be nice… he'd say he loved Bonny later… later…

* * *

><p><em>13:01<em>

"Daddy!" Bonny shouted into the phone again, but there was no response. She had heard his hoarse voice before, but it was too quiet, maybe it was her name. Then he had coughed and it sounded bad. She could only presume he was involved in some kind of car crash. She stood from the bed she had been sitting on, trying to get her head together. "Please respond, daddy, please tell me you're okay."

"He'll be fine…" Came the sleepy voice of Zack, who was sprawled on the bed naked.

"Shut the fuck up Zack." Bonny snapped and tried to listen to the phone to get some clue. She heard a door open, and then a voice, one that wasn't her fathers.

" Are you okay? Sir… Oh god… oh god… what do I do… Oh shit… He's looks bad… he looks bad, this is my fault, isn't it, oh shit… Sally! Call an ambulance! Call them quickly!"

"Is it bad?"

"What the fuck do you think, is it bad? Fuck yes this is bad! I think he' s fucking dead, Sally, I think I fucking killed a man!"

"He crashed into you, Brad, don't freak out."

"Don't freak out? Why the fuck aren't you freakin' out? Shit, shit, shit…"

"Brad, be calm. We're not at fault. I'll call the ambulance, we'll be fine."

Bonny threw the phone on the floor in horror and the back popped off, clattering across the floor.

"…Bonny, come back to bed…"

Ignoring Zack, Bonny felt something rise in her stomach. She couldn't run to the sink and instead fell to her knees, emptying her stomach out on the carpet, spraying it a pastel peach. She coughed hard, tears falling down her cheeks, warm and salty. All she could think about was that this was her fault, that she had gotten her father angry by mentioning staying with stupid Zack and he gotten angry and wasn't paying attention and…

Bonny fell backwards on her rear, back leant against the side of the bed, and thought something for the second time in her life.

…_I've killed a parent…_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Once again, thank you. If I have any writing-rust, I'll get rid of it ASAP. I will get a chapter out within the next few days. I mean what I say. I really, honesty, do. **

**Thank you. **


	16. Glass

_13:40_

_Click._ Lily Talbot pushed her finger against the smudged button of the vending machine. _Click. _She frowned at it, staring at her intended purchase. _Click. Click. _Lily continued to narrow her eyes at the chocolate bar, as if willing it to finally fall out of its damn spiral. It was snagged on the side, and no amount of pressing the button was getting it to move. Lily finally gave the vending machine a swift kick and the chocolate bar finally left its perch. She grabbed it, unwrapped, and took a bite, ignoring the look of the annoyed hospital staff.

The hospital made Lily feel neither good nor bad. It was just a place for people to live… or for people to die. A place of healing or a place of suffering. Either way, Hospitals did their job just fine. She took another bite of the chocolate bar, trying to ignore the obviously spying eyes through half-shut doors, near-shut curtains, or even staring directly at her in the corridor.

Everyone knew who she was. The girl who saved the idol Bridge. Or, if you believed some people, the girl who deliberately injured Bridge in an attempt to get closer to him. It was a lot more attention than she wanted, but damned if she wasn't staying at this hospital until Bridge was awake and able to walk out of here on his own two feet.

The morning had started fast, and then slowed down considerably. Bridge was rushed to the hospital, treated for his fourth degree burns, and watched every hour. His condition was stable, but he hadn't woken up yet. It wasn't a worry quite yet. If he didn't wake until the day was over, then the nurses and the doctors would start to worry. But for now it was simply recovery. They had treated the right side of his face and partly his neck and could do nothing more than to wait. They couldn't ease the pain – the nerves had been burnt too much for that. Bridge just lay in his hospital bed, still as a corpse.

Passing through the waiting room, Lily took a third bite but stopped halfway, her ears catching the words from the television in the corner.

"…that Charlie Walker was announced dead on the scene. Rumours suggest that he was on his phone just before the crash, but this has not been confirmed nor denied by the authorities…"

Lily quickened her pace, frowning. She finished off the chocolate bar, threw the wrapper in a nearby bin, and made her way up two flights of stairs to the third floor. She walked down the corridor until she spotted a man sitting on a chair, a security guard assigned to make sure no paparazzi could sneak into Bridge's room.

"Hello," Lilly greeted, passing by the guard and slipping into Bridge's room. The guard just looked at her as if she didn't belong. Just another crazy fan that happened to be in the right place at the right time and now got a free pass to everything.

Bridge was lying on the bed, his chest moving up and down slowly. He was too tall for the covers to cover him sufficiently, so it had been tucked under his armpits, leaving the top of chest free. His chest was completely bare – no hair seen at all. Whether this was natural or Bridge liked to shave himself, Lily wasn't sure. She could sort of see him doing something like that, but also, Bridge seemed far too laid back to shave himself every day.

A few small burn splotches spattered his right shoulder, leading up his neck, and finally to his face. His face was covered in a material similar to cling film, other than the fact that it was opaque; it had been wrapped in such a way that his left eye was free to see – when he eventually woke up. His three beaded hair strands had been brushed behind his left ear, clipped there to stop it from interfering with the wrapping of the injury.

Lily sat down and watched Bridge, thinking hard. The bus crash… Bridge's injury… and that news report… she only needed to hear about Charlie Walker's death, not the whole report. Three things in a row… could it be more than a coincidence? A voice on the other side of the door caught her attention.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the guard.

"Oh yes. This is… Bridge's room, correct?"

"It is. But I will have to ask you to move along."

"Oh, but I have to go through with my investigation."

"You don't look like no police."

"We're not the police, but rather the DSI. Here's my ID, if it pleases you, now if you excuse me."

The door handle turned and in stepped a scruffy, but handsome man in a trilby and a heavy-set man chewing gum. The moment the man in the trilby saw Lily, he blinked in surprise.

"Ah, I wasn't aware he had a visitor." Eugene Hawk grinned.

"What's the DSI?" Lily asked, crossing her arms and standing up.

"Eavesdropping is bad for you, you know." Eugene ran a hand down his rough chin. "My name is Eugene Hawk. This is Harold Kelly. We are from the Department of Supernatural Investigation."

Lily could feel her eye twitch involuntarily. The Department of Supernatural Investigation…

"Seeing as Bridge appears to be unconscious still, would you answer some of our questions? I recognise you from the bus."

"And how's that?"

"We have pictures of everyone on the bus. So, are you willing to answer questions about the bus crash and Bridge's accident?"

"No." Lily replied simply. If there was one thing she was certain of, it's that Bridge's injury was not an accident. Bridge didn't make mistakes.

* * *

><p><em>13:53<em>

His father was a big man, with a thick, coarse beard and a completely bald head. Even in the photos his eyes glinted of the darkness that lay within him. His hands were squeezed too tightly on his wife's shoulder and his son's arm. His shirt had three buttons undone, revealing a hairy chest and broad muscles.

Elijah looked at the family photo taken years before and blinked slowly. He certainly wasn't mourning for his father, and not even mourning for his mother. He was mourning for Charlie Walker, a man who had done so much only for it all to get taken away in once vicious swipe. When Elijah had met Charlie, Elijah had seen his father in Charlie. They shared the same eyes, the same big figure, the same presence. Elijah had been told Charlie's story in the hour before the meeting.

Charlie had always had a history of violence. In school he was a bully, knocking kids around for lunch money, respect, or simply for the fun of it. In college he had been arrested for breaking a teacher's nose, only to get bailed out by his rich father. The violence had seemingly disappeared from that point, through his parents' death, and all the way to his marriage and having a daughter. When Charlie started to become famous, tabloids started whispering about the bruises his wife had on her neck, or the black eye she had once sported. Charlie had furiously declined all accusations.

Then the news reported that Charlie Walker's wife had died after falling down the stairs and breaking her neck. Charlie was initially suspected but cleared after they had proved his wife had died tripping up. Only a week after Charlie had turned up at his first meeting, wanting to turn his life around. Elijah had seen him and immediately wanted to help him and help him he did. Charlie did turn his life around – his anger went elsewhere and he left his daughter unmarked.

They were getting close… really, really close to Charlie being comfortable enough to leave the weekly meetings. And then… then this car crash…

Elijah let the photo drop to the table and leant back in his chair, wondering if Charlie was up there looking down on him. Did his wife forgive him? Were they both smiling, happy, watching over Bonny?

"I hope you're happy, man. You deserve all the happiness you can get." Elijah muttered, running a hand over his head. It wasn't the first time he had thought about death in such an in-depth manner. He wanted to believe in God and heaven and all of that, but more often than not he believed that when a man dies… he's gone. No more thoughts, no more happiness, no more sadness, no more pain… just… emptiness…

The first time he had thought it was when he stood over his father's body, painted in blood, and stared down at the bloody mess that was once a head. He had wondered if his father was still somehow aware of his death and was yelling at him from beyond the grave. He had wondered if his father even knew he was dying. He had wondered a great many thing about his father during his time in prison.

Elijah stood up, frustrated and upset. He didn't want to think about death, he just wanted to remember Charlie as a good man. He strode for the door, ready to take a walk, even if it was raining outside. As soon as he swung the door open, he came face to face with a young raven-haired woman with dark blue eyes. Elijah stopped his forward momentum, staring down at his agent. "Beth."

"Elijah." Beth responded, cool despite the fact she hadn't got around to opening the door. Beth was the one who scheduled all of his gigs or concerts, the radio shows and the news, everything. Usually she was perky and nothing but smiles, but today her lips were cast in a thin line. Charlie Walker's death had affected a great many people.

"Can it wait, Beth, I need to go out… I need to think."

Beth shook her head. "You can't go out, Elijah."

"And why is that?"

Beth sighed and looked up at him. "With Bridge injured and Charlie dead… that's two of the three musicians on that bus attacked."

"Attacked? Both were accidents, Beth."

"Not according to the police. I got a phone call from Jeff, the one with the limp who works at the desk all the time? Apparently they're treating this as very suspicious. Someone deliberately caused the crash in order to kill you three, and as soon as they failed, this person is now hunting you directly." Beth shook her head. "It's all rumor and conjecture… but it does have some basis… what are the chances that both Bridge and Charlie had their accidents on the same day within hours of each other?"

"Fuck if I know and fuck if I care." Elijah turned and paced away. "So… what, then? I'm locked out, unable to go out and get free of this stuffy old place?"

"…that's what they've suggested to me."

"And you're gonna just accept that?"

Beth stepped further into the room and leaned on the wall. "You have to admit, Elijah… there is some merit in what they say."

"Screw merit." Elijah cursed. "I need time to mourn my friend and I can't do that here."

"They did say that… if it was entirely necessary for you to leave, then they can give you personal protection."

"Oh, yeah, great. I need to be _alone_, not stalked by the men in blue. I had enough of that in prison." Elijah stopped pacing and held his fingers at his temple. "…has there been any word of Bonny?"

Beth shrugged again. "Jeff could only tell me so much, and his personal favours only last so long. She should have been informed by now."

"I need to talk to her."

"Is that wise?"

"She just lost her father, Beth."

"And I expect the last thing she needs is to talk to you. While you were a close friend of Charlie's, you hardly ever met Bonny. What Bonny needs right now-"

"Is someone who knew her father." Elijah stubbornly insisted. "And I'm likely the only one who knows… knew…" Elijah grit his teeth. "…knew Charlie to his very core. The bad and the good."

"Maybe leave that until later, Elijah."

"Tell me, Beth, if I can't leave this room, do you expect me to just sit here for god knows how long?"

"That's what you have to do, at least until the police have completed their investigations."

Elijah growled in frustration and sat down on his chair. "Why is it, Beth..." Elijah paused, trying to ignore the bad taste in his mouth.

"Why is what?" Beth walked to Elijah and sat in the opposite chair.

"Why is it that good men are punished while bad men are rewarded?"

"…What do you mean, Elijah?"

"I mean that Charlie Walker was a good man." Elijah said firmly. "He had his flaws, yes, but he was a good man who had every good intention for his daughter and, if she was still alive, for his wife. Yes, he hit her, yes, he was not a good father in the early days, but those were problems that we were solving. He never killed a man! But I… I killed my own father and no matter my reasons that was still murder. But I was let out of prison early… I could make this career of mine… I'm rich beyond my wildest dreams, I'm popular, I'm famous… and I'm still alive." Elijah looked to Beth, feeling his eyes grow wet. "Charlie Walker was so much of a better man than me, Beth. He was getting better he was… he was…" Elijah squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm not gonna be able to do anything music related for a while, Beth. I can't… I need to… do something else… I gotta… get my head together."

* * *

><p><em>14:00<em>

"Are you going to answer any of our questions?" Eugene Hawk asked, looking down at Lily. His face was a mask, but it was not good enough. Lily could see the anger and the irritation in his eyes and she enjoyed the sight.

"I am answering your questions, Mr. Hawk." Lily smirked. "I'm just not giving you the answers you would like."

"You seem like a smart young lady, so let's not be so cheeky." The anger flashed in Eugene's eyes, trying to hide behind the loose smile. Harold snapped at his gum. He wasn't as easy to read as Eugene was. His eyes were blank and staring, his mouth moving up and down as he chewed. "Why were you at the studio?"

"That was where fate guided me." Lily enjoyed this little game. Eugene was the type of man who thought he could worm his way into people's minds; she suspected he was quite good at it, in fact. He is a man who doesn't expect to be talked back to, a man who asserted his dominance. A man, who, when taken off guard, is liable to show weakness.

"And you believe in fate, Lily?"

Lily grinned. He was a persistent one. "It's not a matter of believing, Mr. Hawk. Fate is the word for where people end up. Me talking to you was fate, simply because it happened. That is all fate is, nothing more, nothing less."

"Some people would disagree with that."

"Some people would be wrong. Much like you are wrong, Mr. Hawk."

"And how is it I am wrong?"

"You are talking to me, for one thing. You came to a hospital expecting to talk to a man who very recently has been critically injured. What made you think he would be awake and able? You are wrong in the way you think you're better than everyone else. You are wrong in that you think Mr. Chewing Gum over here can threaten me. You are wrong in a great many ways, Mr. Hawk, but perhaps the one thing which is most wrong…" Lily whipped her hand forward to Eugene's face, but he didn't even flinch. Lily smirked and flicked the hat right off of his head. "…is that hat. You seem to be living in the old days of detectives, Mr. Hawk. You're a walking cliché. Shabby clothes, unshaven face, let me guess…" Lily watched Eugene's eyes closely. "You're a former cop." Ding. Lily's smile furthered. "You've lost someone you loved to a criminal you never could catch." Ding, ding. "Your wife?" Jackpot. "I was very much correct, wasn't I? You work for the Department of Supernatural Investigation… that's just a name you gave for your own personal revenge mission."

"You… have a very… very sharp tongue on you, Ms. Talbot." Eugene said, the smile gone from his face and his lips tight. "I would watch it."

"There's nothing interesting about my tongue. It's just like anybody else's tongue. So why come here, Mr. Hawk. How is it that Bridge is involved in this revenge mission of yours?"

Eugene closed his eyes for a second. The smile can back to his face as he opened them. "I would like to find out as much as I can about Sabrina Holland. I think we both know that bus crash wasn't an accident. I intend to find the truth behind-"

"Oh, you don't care all that much about Sabrina Holland." Lily interrupted, and she could see Eugene mentally holding himself back. He certainly didn't like to be cut off. "You're hiding a secret, Mr. Hawk. And I don't care to talk to you if you aren't an honest man."

"An officer of the law can't divulge any facts of the investigation."

"Bullshit. You're not an officer of the law, no matter what that identification says. Oh, you respect the law, no doubt from your time as a cop. You work on your own with that ape of yours and you can divulge all the information you so feel like. So divulge it, otherwise I shan't answer any more of your questions."

Eugene Hawk's hand was fast, like a snake striking from the shadows. He grabbed her arm and held it so tight her muscles screamed against the force. Lily didn't let the pain show and just smiled. "I was wondering when the mask would slip off, Mr. Hawk. Are you going to beat the answers you so desire out of me now?"

"I don't need to beat you to get answers. I doubt you'd even give me them even if I did." Eugene's voice was different somehow, much more venom in his words. "I don't need the answers from you. There are always other people and there are always other ways."

"Go find these other people. Go find those other ways. I have no more interest in bantering with you." Lily said.

"Fine." Eugene let go of her arm and bruising was already starting to show. "I leave you with one simple message, for you and to pass onto Bridge. Beware of Sabrina Holland. Where she goes, who she talks to… death is sure to follow. Just ask Charlie Walker."

Just like that, Eugene turned and exited the room in anger. Harold stared at Lily like a bull stares at a trespasser. "Watch where you step on brittle glass, little lady." He growled in his Irish drawl and leant down, picking up Eugene's trilby. He turned and exited the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to LocalTalent13 for the review! Next time, we'll come up across two character who maybe have drifted slightly out of importance. Thanks for reading and,**

'**Till next time! **


	17. Remembrance

_15:13_

Adam Collins sat on a bench, his guitar on his lap. One hand was turning the tuning pegs while the other was occasionally strumming. His eyes were closed in concentration, trying to listen for the right sound.

"It sounded perfect when you started, there's no need to change it." Zoe Montgomery said, sitting beside him, her legs stretched out on the bench.

"No, it was a bit off… I just need to find the perfect note."

"There's no such thing as a perfect note, you know that." Zoe reached forward and put a slender hand on Adam's shoulder. "You've been stressed since the accident, Adam. I think you just need to put the guitar away for a few days."

"I can't just put it away. Performing at the festival was one of the greatest things to happen to me. I can't just let that feeling disappear into the air."

"It's not going anywhere." Zoe squeezed lightly. "We both know what the meant to you. You aren't going to forget it anytime soon."

Adam sighed and propped the guitar on the wall. He leant back on the bench and looked across the room and through the window. It was pouring outside, rain hitting the windows like bullets. The sky was dark enough to be evening despite the fact it was only early afternoon. Every so often a far rumbling could be heard, distant and quiet.

He would usually play the guitar outside, sitting on a slight incline of the back garden, but the rain made that impossible. The bench seat was the next best thing, sitting at the end of the main hallway. The bench was an antique one, thick oak with red and blue embroidered cushions. The whole house itself was an antique – Zoe had inherited it from her grandparents when she had turned 18. Zoe was smart enough to be able to pay the bills and tax. Adam didn't understand it completely but Zoe took care of it all.

"Do you think Charlie Walker knew that he was going to die?" Adam asked out of nowhere, turning to his girlfriend.

"Maybe. I couldn't say." Zoe responded, frowning. "But it's not good to think about that kind of thing."

"I wonder if it's better to die quickly or slowly. Seeing it coming or not. I wonder if it hurt him."

"What's got into you, Adam."

"Everything." Adam sighed again, his hands falling to his lap. "We should go somewhere nice, maybe Cornwall or Scotland."

Zoe smiled softly. "We could do that." As well as the house, Zoe had also gotten a car, a nice comfy little thing, perfect for road trips.

"Just to take my mind off all of this." Adam motioned vaguely with his hand. He glanced to Zoe and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you…" Adam stopped and took a breath. "Do you think something's going on? First Bridge's near-miss… now Charlie Walker…"

"You didn't get enough sleep last night. You're thinking too much into things."

"I suppose… but both were-"

Adam's words were interrupted the sound of metal hitting wood reverberating through the house. Zoe cursed lightly. "I have a doorbell for a reason…" she muttered, standing up and walking down the length of the hall towards the set of double doors sitting at the front of the house. She swung open the door and stared at the bedraggled young man standing on the porch.

Raiden Darkoff had his hands stuffed deep into his trench coat, and he was completely drenched. Rainwater dripped from his nose and chin and he was shivering slightly. His hair was plastered to his face, locks covering his eyes.

"Hello, can I help you?" Zoe had one hand on her hip. She didn't like strangers visiting her house.

"He's from the bus." Adam said, walking up to Zoe. "I recognise him… Jayden… I think."

"Raiden." His teeth chattered as he talked.

Zoe looked him up and down. "You're soaking wet. Come in, have a hot drink."

"Thank you…" Raiden stepped into the doorway. "But I'm not thirsty. I would like to talk to you. Adam specifically." Raiden peeled off his coat and hung it on a coatrack, revealing a thick grey hoody.

"Take a seat." Zoe motioned to the living room. She decided that the young man couldn't do any harm. Besides, it seemed he and Adam knew each other at least a little bit. "I'll get you a towel to try yourself off."

"Thank you." Raiden nodded his thanks as Zoe walked off to find a towel. His eyes turned toward Adam. "We're in danger."

"What?" Adam blinked, taken aback.

"We are in danger." Raiden repeated, his eyes unmoving.

"Um… what sort of danger?" Adam didn't know what else to say. He sat down on his chair, looking up to Raiden.

"Sabrina Holland."

"She's the girl who saved us from that crash… what about her?"

"She didn't save us." Raiden hissed, his tone dark. "The complete opposite in fact."

"I'm sorry… Raiden, I don't understand what you are saying." Adam felt like he should have just kicked Raiden out, but he had always been too nice for his own good. Besides, Zoe was right, Raiden looked like he had slept under a waterfall.

"I don't know why… I don't know how… but Sabrina Holland is killing the people she 'saved'." The last word was almost a sneer. Adam blinked, lost for words. "She tried to kill Bridge but didn't account for the other girl. Then she successfully killed Charlie Walker."

"T-Those were accidents…" Adam shook his head. "Why would you think something like that? She was the one who turned the bus to-"

"To save herself! She didn't care an iota about us. And didn't you notice… she went for the steering wheel before the other cars even came around the corner. She knew they were coming… and I think she's guilty of something. That's why she's killing us off."

"Only one person from the bus is dead."

"For now." Raiden shook his head, rain spattering against the carpet. "We're all on her list, I know it, and she wants to get rid of us. I wanted to talk to the others, but when I went to their hotel she was already talking to them. I got away before she saw me. She's no doubt wringing up some story, pulling the strings. We can't trust any of them. But you… you weren't there. Elijah and Eddy weren't there either. If I can contact them before Sabrina does we can warn them of what she intends to do."

"I don't mean to be rude, Raiden." Adam cut in before Raiden spit out more of his nonsense. "But you sound crazy."

"Heh… I know… I know what it sounds like, I know that I sound around the bend but it has to be true. She saved us before she knew she had to save us. She doesn't want to let us know what it is she has… what kind of power… or… or whatever is."

"You're paranoid, Raiden. Perhaps you've been out in the rain too long."

"I'm not paranoid." Raiden grit his teeth, his eyes wide. "She has the eyes, Adam, she has the eyes. The eyes of the dead, but she isn't about to die!"

"Please, I'm going to have to ask you to leave-"

"This is serious, this is a warning, and if you don't heed it you'll find yourself dead! Is that what you want?" Raiden took a step forward so suddenly Adam moved back in surprise. He found that Raiden scared him. "Look, look, look, I mean, she's not human… she can't be human, at least not fully. The eyes of the dead prove it! I will find out what she is and I will find proof that she is the one who attacked Bridge and Charlie Walker. And who will be next? Please, you have to help me save the others. You have to help me contact Eddy Cool and Elijah Freemon, we need to warn them of Sabrina Holland!"

"I want you to leave now, Raiden, please."

"Do you want to die so badly, Adam? Do you… do you want to leave your loving girlfriend lonely so early in your marriage? Are you willing to make her mourn for you and to cry over you and to live her own life in agony until it ends."

"Get. Out." Adam found in him an anger he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever at all. He stood up and stared at Raiden. "Leave. I think that accident effected you badly. Go find help. And don't come back here again."

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Adam… don't say I didn't… I did. I will be the one who stops her and you will be the one in a grave." Raiden turned and stomped to the front doors, grabbing his coat and disappearing into the swirling rain outside.

* * *

><p><em>15:30<em>

Carol felt absolutely useless as she sat one of the kitchen chairs, an elbow on the table, a half-eaten apple in her hand. Usually when she was home she felt happy but today, even with the kids, she didn't feel happy. Cindy was watching on of her shows, far too happy about it for Carol to interrupt. Olly was upstairs, playing those videogames, and he generally didn't make conversation. Carol wished she could be back on the job, back to driving around London looking for criminals. Even paper work, anything to keep her mind of Timothy.

Being home with her own thoughts she couldn't help but think of him. The way he smiled. The way he laughed with that gruff voice. The way his flesh peeled back from the burns… Carol grit her teeth and stood up, pacing around the house to find something to do. She had done the washing up, put the clothes in the washing machine, vacuumed the floor, and trimmed the bushes all in the morning. There was nothing else much to do. She wouldn't be able to concentrate on reading a book and the kids didn't want to play board games. They didn't want to do much with her anymore. At least Cindy had the grace to feel slightly bad about it.

Her house was a small one, brought by her late husband on their first wedding year anniversary. The same day they conceived Cindy. Before that they had been living in a nice enough apartment, raising Olly. The house had been their dream – to raise their children in a space they could truly call their own. She hoped he was watching now, looking down as Olly and Cindy grew, as they started to develop their own personalities.

The knock on her door was light but loud enough to be heard over the TV. Before Carol could even stand up, Cindy was yelling, "I'll get it, I'll get it!"

"Cindy, no." Carol called out but Cindy was already rushing from the sofa and to the front door. She opened it wide with a child's carelessness. Carol was there seconds later and grabbed Cindy's shoulder lightly, staring at the two men on her doorstep.

One was thick-set with a crisp white shirt, open enough to see his hairy chest. The other… the other one sent Carol's heart pumping. It was like seeing her husband all over again. The way the chin was shaped, the thin cheeks, the lopsided smile, the slightly narrow eyes.

For a moment Carol thought that Jeff had finally come home.

"Daddy!" Cindy yelled loudly with glee, pulling away from the stricken Carol and grabbing Eugene Hawk around the leg. Eugene Hawk smile changed into something less playful, and much warmer as he looked down at the blonde head of Cindy. He patted her on the head.

"I'm not your daddy, little one, I'm sorry to say." Eugene said in a voice that had spoken to young children before.

"Oh…" Cindy's bottom lip quivered and she stood back, bashful. "Daddy was stab-ed."

Eugene crouched down. "I know. I was one of the men who caught the bad people who attacked your daddy."

"Did they suffer?"

Eugene looked across the hallway to the staircase, where Oliver Tearn stood, dressed in scuffed jeans and a hoody, his long hair nearly covering one eye. Eugene's smile changed again, this one more soft and serious. "They will be in prison for a very long time."

"A long time isn't good enough, they should be killed." Oliver said, venom in his voice.

"I agree with you on that front. But I don't decide which crimes they were sentenced for. You can't put a man to death for manslaughter."

"They stabbed him!"

"But your father attacked first. Their lawyer played the card that they were acting in self defense. I couldn't change that decision." Eugene's eyes hardened. "When a fellow officer is killed, even a stranger, I always try to find a suitable punishment." His smile turned back to his first, lopsided with small amusement. "Carol, could I come in?"

Carol was still lost in memories of a better life, a life with a full family. Of picnics with small children, of watching movies, of tucking them into bed. Her memories went further back, during the three years they were together before being married. The nervous Carol meeting the confident Jeff, a police-officer in training. Their first kiss, their first night of passion…

Then her memories flickered past the times of family and into the times of dread. Of being confronted by those muggers as they threatened them with a knife. Of Jeff charging forward to protect his cubs. Of the blood spilling on the floor, Olly crying, Cindy too young to understand properly but bawling as well. Jeff didn't go down without a fight. He had broken a nose, an arm, and a couple of ribs of the muggers. But fists can't do much against knives. He had always thought himself a hero but in the end trying to be one got him killed.

Carol came back to the present time, staring at this man who looked so much like Jeff. "Who are you?" She asked, more demanding that she meant. She pulled Cindy back behind her protectively.

"My name is Eugene Hawk."

"You knew Jeff?"

"Not personally, no. But he was a police officer at the same time as me. We heard stories about him, as we did for every cop. Our department was very grieved to hear of his passing." Eugene took off his trilby and held it to his chest. "I am sorry to be so blunt, but I am not here to talk about Jeffrey."

"Of course, I just… Come in, come in." Carol guided the two men into the living room where Eugene sat, although Harold stayed standing tall. Carol looked to him apologetically. "I'm sorry, I forgot to ask for your name."

"Harold Kelly." The man replied simply, his Irish drawl obvious.

"I…" Carol stared at him and found that she also recognised him, although he wasn't nearly as recognisable as Eugene was. "I know you."

"Oh?" Harold face barely changed other than one eyebrow moving up.

"I just can't place it, I'm sorry. Would you like some drinks?"

"A coffee would be wonderful." Eugene smiled. "No milk, no sugar. I like my coffee bitter."

"I'll take a glass of water." Harold replied, his thick arms crossed over his chest.

Carol turned to walk to the kitchen but Oliver stopped her with a look. "I'll make the drinks, mum. Cindy, come with me."

"Thank you, Olly." Carol was grateful. He may be in a rebel phase, but he still realised when something important was happening. He didn't even protest the fact she called him Olly. When the two children disappeared, Carol sat on a seat opposite Eugene. "How can I help you two?"

"We wanted to ask you some questions about the crash you were involved in. You were chasing a group of suspects driving mustangs, correct?"

"Yes." Carol nodded.

"And…" Eugene's voice turned soft. "You lost your partner, correct?"

"I did. Timothy Yalton."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Eugene sat forward slightly in his chair. "If you would prefer we talk about this later…"

"It's fine. I've come to terms with it. After my husband… I know when to mourn and when not to." Carol sensed Eugene had been in many a grieving family member's house. He showed all the signs of it. "Where are you stationed, Eugene?"

"Oh… I'm not a police officer anymore." Eugene blinked slowly.

"I'm sorry for that…"

"Don't be. I left on my own accord. We had a falling out, they didn't think my methods were suitable… it's a long story and one I wouldn't want to bore you with." Eugene straightened in his chair. "Did you notice anything strange when you were chasing those suspects? Specifically involving the bus?"

"The bus wasn't part of the chase. Timothy and I were chasing the men in the mustang cars and they had turned a corner. We followed and as soon as we turned we saw the bus on the side of the road and the cars crash. I… I told Timothy that I would see to the unrelated bus crash, while he would look at the car crash." Carol closed her eyes. She hated feeling like she had sent him to his death. "But by what definition of strange to you mean?"

"If the bus was already crashed by the time you turned the corner, then you wouldn't have seen anything amiss." Eugene glanced to Harold and back to Carol. "What do you know of Sabrina Holland?"

"She was the young woman who turned the bus away from the car crash. Saved the whole bus, from the way the story was told."

"You interviewed her, correct?"

"It wasn't so much an interview. I talked with her, yes. I didn't have time for any proper questions before… well, you know."

"Yes…" Eugene lowered his head in respect. "And she didn't seem… suspicious?"

"Suspicious? Not in any way I could say. She said she saw the headlights of the cars, and that she acted instinctively. It didn't seem strange – many have been known to act in surprising ways to save lives."

Eugene tapped his chin with a finger. "Do you know of Charlie Walker?"

"I do. It was horrible to hear of what happened to him. I heard some of his music at the For the People festival… A horrible accident."

"Yes, yes, it was." Eugene glanced to Harold again. "Carol… what I am about to tell you is completely confidential. I am only going to tell you this because I think, as the partner of Timothy, you deserve to know. I know you can keep this quiet – you are a police officer, after all."

"What is it?"

"We… that is to say the agency Harold and I work for, believe Sabrina is a dangerous individual. We believe that she is involved in what happened, not only with the crash, but with what happened to Charlie Walker and to what happened to Bridge."

"Involved? Is she a suspect? I thought these were accidents?"

"They were accidents… of a certain sort." Eugene leant further back in his chair. "I am going to explain to you something that will sound… surprising. Strange. Unbelievable, even. But I want you to know that while these are theories, the ideas behind them are very much real. And after I explain to you just what we think is happening… I am going to ask of you a request. You are free to deny this request, we won't think anything of it. But the only thing I ask of is for you to hear me out."

"Of course." Carol wasn't sure why she answered so quickly. She supposed it must be the fact that Eugene looked like Jeff. Besides, the man used to be a police officer and left on his own terms. These men didn't seem to be suspicious or hiding anything. "I'll listen to what you have to say."

"Thank you." Eugene smiled. "I suppose I'll start from the beginning, from the day Harold and I were paired together to tackle a specific problem."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to LocalTalent53 & Yajuu_Kikuishi for the review. I can now say I have a tentative upload schedule of Wednesdays and Sundays, at least for now. Things are happening in real life, but thanks for bein' patient with me. I'll keep on trucking along and eventually I'll start speedin'.**

'**Till next time!**


	18. Suspect

_2012  
><span>__June 13__th__, Wednesday  
><em>_21:30_

"Just what you want on the first day of the job." Eugene crossed his arms as he stared at the sight of destruction in front of him. Only a few hours before, it had been a fully functioning restaurant, but now it was a pile of rubble, with firefighters still tackling a particularly stubborn flicker of flame. Bodies had been lined up outside, covered in white sheets. It was like something from a war-film, almost thirty bodies of varying sizes.

"It doesn't faze you?" Harold asked from beside Eugene, his mouth moving up and down from chewing his gum.

"Nope." Eugene simply replied.

Harold glanced at Eugene for a quick second before walking forward wordlessly. He stopped at the bodies and glanced at them without a sign of emotion on his face.

"Quite the body count." Eugene said, crouching beside Harold.

"Twenty-eight fatalities." Harold murmured. He pulled up the corner of one of the sheets, staring at the blank blue eyes of an older man, small burns pockmarked on his face. From the markings at his ears, Harold could easily guess that the man had worn glasses before, likely too tight. Dropping the sheet Harold stood up and turned towards an ambulance that was facing them, the back doors turned away from the scene of the accident. "And one survivor. Eugene?"

Eugene smirked. "Sabrina Holland. Eighteen years old today. Her family is part of the deceased. Testing me, Harold?"

"Making sure you know the information. The last thing we need is you slacking." Harold walked towards the rubble of the restaurant. No-one took them aside or demanded to know who they were. Not the policemen who had cordoned off the site and were holding civilians back, nor the paramedics who were standing by in case another survivor was found. They knew who they were.

"What started the fire?" Harold called out to a nearby firefighter. He was the Group Manager according to the wreath surrounding a curved flower design. The firefighter looked at them, annoyed for a second before realising just who they were.

"It seems to be nothing malicious." The firefighter said. "We believe the fire originated from a burst pipe in the kitchen. Pressure had gathered at a hinge point which had not been suitably bolted. When it burst, a lot of other equipment followed in its footsteps. It didn't help that the building was old and hadn't been structured properly. The roof had fallen in almost as soon as the explosion hit."

"So an accident?"

"I believe so, yes. We can't be certain until the investigation is concluded though."

Harold walked past the firefighter without even a thank you, into the rubble of the restaurant. Eugene followed, stepping over part of the roof. "What are you doing?" Eugene asked as they came to the middle of the seating area.

"Getting a feel for it." Harold said simply. Eugene almost expected him to do something special. Instead Harold just stood, hands to his side, and looked around slowly. After a full two minutes of silence, Harold nodded. "This is one of the scenes. We're on the right track."

"And you know that how?"

Harold looked at Eugene almost as if he should know exactly how. "You can feel a presence. Something unnatural happened here."

* * *

><p><em>22:34<em>

Eugene sat in the corner of the rented out hotel room, watching Harold write neatly on a desk. If Harold was anything, it was neat. He always had a place for everything; paper, pens, pencils, erasers, whatever he needed had their own special place. Eugene had seen Harold at three desks already, and each time he arranged his things the same, no matter the design of the desk.

"Something on your mind, Eugene?" Harold asked without looking up from the desk. Eugene stared at him. Harold seemed to have the awareness of a lion.

"Why didn't we just arrest Sabrina Holland there and then?" Eugene asked. "The evidence was all there, especially the way you reacted. This was another one of the Events. So why let the only survivor go?"

"We are still the law, Eugene. Innocent until proven guilty still stands."

"And that's how criminals get free." Eugene shook his head. "From what I understand, the Events happen one of two ways. Either a survivor gets a 'vision' and saves a group of people… or a survivor gets a vision and saves themselves. When a survivor saves themselves, with prior knowledge that something is going to happen, then that is a criminal offense."

"A criminal offence that isn't written down is no offence at all." Harold finally looked up. "We aren't private detectives here in the DSI. We're not renegade cops. We don't break the yellow tape and take shortcuts. We do things officially – otherwise we're the bad guys."

"From what I know the DSI likes to hang around with their hands in their pockets making no progress at all."

"And what is it that you know?" Harold's eyes narrowed. Eugene did not like his tone of voice.

"I know that the DSI have been around for nearly twenty years, investigating the same old Events and always coming up short. I know that the DSI is getting less and less money from the government. I know that the DSI always looks for the most desperate, the most needy, to do their work because people can get paid better elsewhere."

"So why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here, don't screw around. But fact of the matter is the promises that were made to me haven't come to fruition yet." Eugene stood up, animated, fired up. "I was promised answers! I was promised that I would find just who it was that killed…"Eugene took a lonely, painful, breath. "I need my revenge, Harold. This seemed to be the quickest way. Was I wrong?"

"Revenge doesn't come in a day, especially when the day is not over." Harold replied, calm as ever. "You were promised answers and answers you will receive. We have to seek these answers out first. You knew what you signed up for. Revenge comes second. The DSI investigations come first."

"But what's the damn point!? For years… years you've got no answers! Nothing! This Sabrina Holland, we let her go free so that she could think up some excuse. We should have gotten to her straight away before she could think, then she would have confessed!"

"That is not the way we do things, Eugene."

"Apparently not. You know why private detectives always break the law to get to the criminal on TV? Because otherwise the criminal gets away!"

"This is not television and the 'criminal' you speak of is likely nothing of the sort we've encountered before. We are the Department of Supernatural Investigation. Do you know what that means?" Eugene opened his mouth but Harold cut him off. "It means that we investigate the supernatural. It used to be ghost sightings, hauntings and the like. But nothing ever came of that. Then we got a break – an accident, with a survivor claiming she 'saw' it happen. Evidence proved there was no way for her to know of it. The DSI have been working non-stop since then and we have come ever closer to the answers. We are nearly there, but we needed dedicated workers. People like me, who will spend every night and every day trying to get these answers. That is why you were chosen, Eugene. You had motive, you had the intelligence. The DSI… and I as well, believe you can break this case wide open. But being naïve and acting like a child will not do that. If you put your head to it, use your charm to get people to open up, we can navigate the treacherous path of lies to find just what it is the Events are." Harold stood, standing much taller than the young Eugene. "But don't mistake that for 'need'. The DSI does not need you. There are hundreds like you, hundreds of young men with charisma and motive and the necessary emotions. And if you decide to leave…? What would you do?"

"I-"

"You would do nothing. You do not leave the DSI. It is a life-long service which ends when your life ends. If you left the DSI we would hunt you down, we would kill those close to you, then we would break you, and leave you to suffer." Harold's voice was still deathly calm. "Would you prefer that over finding your answers, Eugene?"

For a minute Eugene found himself speechless. When he finally found his voice, he took his trilby off and held it to his side. "Your threats aren't very subtle, Harold."

"What good are threats if they are disguised?"

Eugene chuckled lightly. "No good at all." He smirked to himself. "Y'know, why do we even have partners?"

Harold raised an eyebrow, perhaps surprised at the question.

"Don't get me wrong, I understand that it's good to have someone to watch your back when times get tough." Eugene grinned and placed his trilby back on his head. "But what good are you as a partner? You seem to have nothing but bad news, no enthusiasm, nothing but a face of stone and a voice of Irish granite. As a partner… you're certainly worse than others I have had. After all, you're nothing but a washed-up, wannabe professional boxe -"

The table slid across the floor too quickly for Eugene to see it coming. It slammed into his legs, knocking him backwards. It took two strides for Harold to slam his fist hard into Eugene's stomach. It felt like someone had just hit him with a metal baseball bat. Eugene doubled over, trying to find his breath but Harold didn't let him get it. He grabbed Eugene around the throat in his thick fingers and pushed him against the wall. Harold's face had gone cold, his features thin and his eyes full of anger.

"Don't be mistaken, Eugene Hawk. I didn't want a partner either. I work best alone but I was willing to try to accept you. Don't make me regret that." Harold released Eugene, letting him slide to the floor.

"Heh…" Eugene's smile appeared back on his face and he placed his fallen hat back on his head and looked up to Harold. "You're not the only one who can make threats, Harold." Eugene stood up, rubbing his throat in pain. "Truth be told I actually like you. But know that I can make you break that nice little exterior you have. You can break me… I can break you. It goes hand in hand. I'm willing to wait a while for my revenge… but it would please me if I didn't have to wait long."

"You're a snake-tongued little bastard, I'll give you that." Harold offered a hand down to the fallen Eugene. "That'll be all the more to our advantage. Get up. We have work to do."

* * *

><p><span><em>2014<br>__September 1st, Monday  
><em>_16:00_

"That's where I know you from." Carol interrupted. Eugene took a sip of his coffee as she turned to Harold. "A professional boxer. My husband used to love boxing. It was never quite my cup of tea, but I saw him watch it a lot. However, once the kids came he never quite got back into it. Never had the time, I expect."

"That was nigh on ten years ago." Harold said.

"It was nigh on ten years ago when my husband watched it. He used to tell me about it… as I say, I was never interested, but I was happy to listen. He seemed so passionate about it. I know you were a champion, that you went through hard fights only to come out on top. Then you disappeared, retired as champion. What happened?"

"Tragedy." Harold simply replied. Carol caught a flicker of something in his eyes that almost looked like sadness. "Those glory days are over…" Harold glanced down towards his hand. It was clenched tight and shaking. "I wish I could say I didn't miss it. I really do." Harold seemed to be talking to himself, his fist going white from the pressure. "Truly, never does time pass that I don't think I made the wrong decision. To be champion again…" His eyes snapped back up, all emotion stricken from his face. "That life is over for me, Ms Tearn. It would do well not to mention it."

"I'm sorry." Carol apologized. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"They aren't bad memories, don't mistake that. Everything I've done since those days I've done in full confidence of happiness. It's all I can do."

"Who did you lose?" Carol chanced to ask.

Eugene let out a small laugh. "Certainly a perceptive one. Not many can read Harold, Carol, and even less find the true emotions."

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, really. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"My children." Harold replied, his eyes seeming to look back in the past. "The reason I do everything I do is for them."

Carol felt a shiver run down her spine. She thought of Olly and Cindy and didn't like thinking what it would be without them. She had kept strong after her husband's death because of them. She found herself knowing that Harold Kelly was a very, very strong man, and not just physically. Carol looked to Eugene. "This Sabrina Holland. Did she cause the accident? Both back then and now?"

"Oh no, we doubt that very much," Eugene said. "She's only a catalyst, we think. We don't know why certain people have those visions though. Any connection we find is for two or three of these visionaries, no more. Tell me, Carol, you don't seem to shaken up with all this talk of visions."

"I keep an open mind. I've spoken to people who firmly believe in ghosts, or god, or fortune telling. They truly believe it, and who am I to judge? Beliefs are a weird thing, Eugene. Who knows who is right? You believe that these visions are true. That's good enough for me."

"An interesting mind-set." Eugene tapped his chin. "But how do you respond to criminals who truly believe what they did was the right thing? Killers have been known to truly believe their victims deserved what they got."

"No matter the reason, killing a man is a bad thing." Carol replied firmly.

"An obvious response." Eugene smirked. "What would you do if a suspect held a hostage and you knew he would shoot? You have an instant to kill the suspect or an innocent civilian dies."

"Why kill? I would try to aim for his chest if it is open. If not, I would go for the shooting arm or the leg."

"But you risk the man shooting anyway."

"You risk that chance even when aiming for the kill. The same risk with two very different results."

"Okay, I like that answer. However, criminals are one thing. People are sentenced to death for murders. You believe the government is correct in this?"

"I never said I believe that death penalties are the correct way to go. Prison is punishment enough."

"People escape prison."

"Not if the security is good enough."

Eugene smiled. "I certainly do like you. A firm belief of survival will get you a long way in the world. Carol, would you be willing to help us?"

"You've told me a story, and as informative as it was, you still haven't actually asked what it is this request is."

"We want you to go to Sabrina Holland. We want you to… get on her side, so to speak. Find out just what it is that is going on."

"And why do you think she'll let me just go in like that?"

"Sabrina knows we are watching her. If she denies then she puts herself up as a suspect even more."

"It would not seem weird to deny someone following her around on her daily business."

"Oh… we haven't explained to you about a so-called list, have we?" Eugene shrugged apologetically. "Too much story-telling I think. Let me explain."

* * *

><p><em>16:20<em>

The door shut behind them. Eugene slipped his hands into his pocket and grinned at Harold. "She seemed to take that well."

"She didn't seem to believe it."

"Nor do we. Her being with Sabrina will hopefully enlighten us. We've never had a chance like this before. A survivor readily informing us what is happening with a visionary. We know of a list, we know the survivors die, but we don't know much more than that."

"Carol certainly seems able. But why did you lie to her?"

"Lie? Whatever do you mean?" Eugene eyes glinted.

"Me and you never argued. I certainly never punched you. If I did, you'd have more problems that simply gasping for air."

"I'm just covering for every eventuality."

"Which is?"

"If Sabrina somehow persuades Carol to go against us, then Carol now believes that there is underlying tension between us. She'll try to use that, and in doing so, find herself beaten before she even begins."

"So you recruit an ally only to think of them as an enemy?"

"Only if it comes to that, Harold my man, only if it comes to that."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to LocalTalent53 for the review! No excuses. Just know that this ain't stopping. <strong>

'**Till Next time! **


	19. Doubt

_16:36_

The news of Charlie Walker's death had been covered extensively all morning. At first, the information was vague – Charlie had been involved in a roadside accident. Then his death had been confirmed, and it didn't take long for videos to pop up on video websites showing the scene of the accident. In the age of social media, even in death a celebrity will never stop being hassled. While the official news sites reported the facts, the blogs reported opinions and theories. Someone killed Charlie Walker, he killed himself, it was an accident; all manner of answer was given with only one common fact – Charlie Walker was dead.

This fact had made Ruby go into a state of sadness. For the past three hours she had sat on her hotel bed, deep in thought. Time had gone by fast in her silence. Her usually jovial face was gone, replaced with a deep frown and downcast eyes.

Behind her sat Sabrina, cross-legged on the bed. She had been waiting patiently for Sabrina to speak in her own time. One finger massaged the scar on her lip as she watched the back of Ruby's vibrant hair.

"We…" Ruby's voice wavered as she finally spoke. "We couldn't have saved him… could we?"

"No." Sabrina replied simply.

"Why not?" Ruby asked without turning.

"He didn't know just what it was that was chasing him. We warned him and that's all we could have done. We didn't know where he was and wouldn't have been able to get to him even if we did."

"We could have explained to him…"

"He hung up." Sabrina said firmly. "That was his choice, not ours. Ruby, we did everything we could have done."

"It doesn't feel like it." Ruby looked up to the ceiling. "I feel like this is our… my fault."

"No." Sabrina crawled to the end of the bed and sat side by side with Ruby. "Charlie Walker's death was not your fault. Do not think like that."

"We knew that he was next, though." Ruby was biting into her bottom lip, trying to stop it from quivering.

"We told him that he was under threat. He heard our warnings – he just didn't heed them. That was his choice."

"He had a daughter." Ruby squeezed her hands together to stop them from shaking. "He was an only parent. Now she's alone."

"Ruby…"

"I wanted to save him." The tears left pale trails on her cheeks. "I-I felt so responsible… I needed to save him…" Ruby turned to Sabrina, eyes wet and wide. "How can you be so… so calm about this? How can you handle this stress?"

Sabrina took a breath and closed her eyes. "I lost my father… my mother… my friends. I never saw them die… but I saw their bodies. So very often I imagine the pain they must have gone through as flames licked at them… I especially imagine my father who most certainly died from the flames. I dream of his screams… and I dream of his silence." Sabrina opened her eyes. "The… brutal honesty of this situation is that the survivors are all strangers. I've seen the ones close to me die. My grief goes towards them, not the people I don't know."

Ruby's hand went up towards Sabrina's face, a finger hovering over her scar. "Is that where…?"

"Yes." Sabrina grabbed Ruby's hand and gently lowered it back down. She kept her grip as she continued. "I consider you my friend, Ruby, if only by this terrible circumstance. I'd be devastated by your death… but only yours. The others… I don't know them. They are all strangers whose deaths I simply can't feel bad for. You need to do the same. You can't let these feelings of grief overwhelm you. Consider them for what they are… strangers… it'll make it easier."

"I… I can't do that… I feel this stabbing pain in my stomach whenever I think about Charlie... I can consider him a stranger all I like… but I saw those clues! I'm responsible for their lives…"

Sabrina lifted her hand, squeezing Ruby's tighter. She held their hands at eye level. "You cannot think like this. You will crumble and you will fall before you can save the others. Focus on saving the survivors that are alive… and if we can't save them, then we have to move on for the sake of our sanity."

Fresh tears slipped down Ruby's face as she stared sadly at Sabrina. "I can't move on from Charlie Walker's death… I just… I can't…" Ruby was visibly shaking. "I-I… I want to be like you, Sabrina… I want to be able… able to just… react like you…" Ruby closed her eyes, streams spilling down her cheeks. "But I'm not you… I'm not you…"

"You don't need to be me." Sabrina reached around Ruby's shoulders and pulled her close. "I'll never ask you to be me…" Sabrina trailed off, allowing Ruby to sob heavily into her shoulder. It took a moment before Sabrina realized Ruby's sobs had turned into heavy coughs. Ruby's back heaved as she coughed violently, throaty and thick. She pulled away, rubbing her arm across her mouth, her eyes red and staring at Sabrina's collar in fear. Sabrina followed the gaze and found it coated in speckles of blood, with one thick globule. "The visions are hurting you." Sabrina realized. She couldn't say why but it was clear this was the case. Nothing else Ruby had done would have caused her to cough up blood.

"That doesn't matter… those visions are our only… clues... the only way to help…" Ruby said hesitantly, unable to draw her eyes away from the crimson at Sabrina's collar. Sabrina remembered Ruby's reaction to her nosebleed moments too late. Ruby's head dropped and she fell to the side in a faint. Sabrina held her in her arms for a few seconds, before slowly positioning her sideways on the bed. Ruby was breathing fine and would be okay, she knew.

"If your health is affected then it does matter." Sabrina stood up, feeling an odd sensation in her head, like the start of a headache. She knew the feeling from the previous two times they had occurred. Sabrina walked herself into the bathroom and leaned on the sink, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. As she watched her face grit in pain, it swirled and twisted, extending outwards into blackness.

She could hear the sound of something swinging, a faint _whoosh, whoosh. _Crying accompanied the swinging, easily distinguished as male. Sabrina wanted to turn but found herself stuck in place, a tightening around her throat. Her fingers scrambled against her neck but nothing was there. The tightness increased, taking away her ability to breath. Falling to her knees, Sabrina stared into the blackness, discerning a faint figure – the figure of a female, neck cocked to the side – in the distance.

The figure was gone, replaced by Sabrina's own face in the mirror again. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and past her nose. Wiping the sweat away, Sabrina turned and exited the bathroom to find Ruby sitting on the edge of the bed, looking pale but smiling wearily.

"You look as bad as I do." Ruby's voice was quiet. "Something wrong?"

"I panicked for a second when you fainted. Don't worry." Sabrina forced a smile. "Nothing's wrong."

* * *

><p><em>16:46<em>

The Cross Hands was the type of pub a man went to to drown his sorrows. Dimly lit, dark colors, grime in the corners, it certainly wasn't a place you'd go to have a happy time. Booths with cracked leather lined one wall, while the dark-grained oak bar lined the other. In the back of the pub stood an aged jukebox which looked like it hadn't been used in years.

This pub was somewhere Eddy Cool used to spend his time at the dead of night after his divorce, when his kids were in bed. He hadn't visited for many years now. However it was the same as it ever was, the same drinks offered, the same old man who perhaps had a few more wrinkles standing behind the bar. After the recent events, it was somewhere Eddy felt at home.

He hadn't talked to the kids other than a brief phone call saying he'd be coming home a few days later than he had expected. Isabella asked little questions – she knew almost straight away how he was feeling and how it echoed the times before. Isabella was the only one to remember those times.

Eddy stared into the dark amber liquid in front of him, trying to force away the pit in his stomach that had appeared since he had heard the news of Charlie Walkers death earlier that day. It wasn't that he and Charlie were good friends – they were simply associates. But they had talked and laughed together… it was hard to ignore the fact that the man you joked with was gone from the world.

"It's not like you not be smiling, Eddy."

Eddy glanced to the side to see Elijah Freemon, hidden under a black hoodie and dark glasses. "Not much to smile at for the moment."

"True that."

"Last I heard, you weren't to be going anywhere without an escort."

Elijah snorted. "Beth been talkin' to you?"

"She's talking about how the musicians are being hunted or something crazy like that. Bridge… Charlie…"

"She said the same to me." Elijah pulled off his glasses. "You believe it?"

"I don't know what to believe… part of me says that the two things happening within hours of each other is coincidence."

"And the other part?"

"The other part I'm trying to ignore by throwing drinks down my throat. Doesn't seem to be working though." Eddy motioned to the hoody and glasses that now sat on the bar. "I take it that isn't just new fashion you're trying out?"

"I kind'a snuck out of my hotel room." Elijah smiled humourlessly. "Beth's gonna skin me alive but ever since prison I can't stay in a small room for too long, you know?"

"I can understand. So how'd you find me?"

"Well, actually… Isabella told me."

Eddy looked to Elijah in surprise. "Isabella? As in my daughter?"

"Yep. She's been trying to get ahold of you, you know?"

"I told her I'd be a couple of days later than expected."

"That ain't enough, man. She's worried about you."

"…I know." Eddy pushed the pint glass absently. "I just… I just don't feel like talking to my children at the moment. I know that sounds horrible but I got to be honest."

"Our mind-set at the moment doesn't scream communication, I know how you feel."

"Besides, I'm trying to gather what courage I have for tomorrow."

It was Elijah's turn to look surprised. "You're still planning to propose tomorrow?"

"I… I have to. I've arranged so much I can't just throw it away. Although that reminds me, I need to talk with Emma again…" Eddy took a breath and closed his eyes. "I think that happiness is going to be sorely needed, besides. So, yeah, I'm still planning on proposing to Felicity." Eddy opened his eyes. "I hope to God she'll say yes."

"You're a good man, Eddy. I can't see any reason she would say no. I've seen you two together, it's clear you love each other."

"My main worry is that it might be too soon. I mean, we've known each other for three months."

"Some get married weeks into their relationship." Elijah provided.

"Yeah…" Eddy drained the last of his glass and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "I think… I think I also want the children to have a mother figure, especially Aiden and Rose. They never got that… and having a sister act like the mother just isn't the same. They need a female in their lives that isn't a sibling. I... Is that selfish?"

"Not at all. As long as Felicity is okay with it, then it's not wrong at all."

"That's the thing… I only introduced them two days ago. She seemed to like them well enough… but…"

Elijah clapped a hand on Eddy's back. "Don't worry about it, man. It's gonna go fine."

"…thanks."

* * *

><p><em>17:00<em>

The rain was a constant presence outside the hotel room in both sound and look. It was a faint roar outside and caused the sky to turn dark as nighttime, heavy raindrops slapping against the window.

"What a crappy day." Jacey Rae broke the silence of the small group with her arms crossed. There were only three people in her room; herself, Adam Treeland and Corey Walker. Emma had disappeared upstairs before they could invite her to the discussion, while Jace had been sitting in the corner of the lobby murmuring to himself. The loss of Charlie had hit all of them, only because it seemingly confirmed everything which Ruby and Sabrina had told them.

"You can say that again." Corey adjusted his beanie, looking out the window. "The weather seems to agree with you."

"Let's not beat around the bush," said Adam, his face downcast. "Jacey… you wanted to talk about Charlie Walker's death?"

"Not specifically." Jacey tried to catch Adam's eye but he looked away. Things had been slightly awkward between them ever since she made the mistake to kiss him. "To be blunt, I wanted to ask… do we believe Sabrina and Ruby? Where do we stand?"

"Sounds like a decision we should make ourselves, not together." Adam said.

"We're a group now…" Jacey said firmly. "Something is going on. It's just a matter of what that something is."

"What Sabrina and Ruby says holds merit… especially after what just happened." Corey admitted. "The talk of… visions… it's crazy… but they haven't… lied to us, have they?"

"They've done nothing but been truthful." Jacey pursed her lips. "I want to believe her, I do. I've believed in crazier things."

"…black magic?" Corey half-joked.

"How'd you guess?" Jacey responded dryly. "I don't believe in it anymore, but for a while in my life, I certainly did. Having visions isn't exactly new, is it? I mean, look at history, people in Greece, for example, claimed to receive visions from the gods. Perhaps there is merit to what they say."

"But that's just myth." Adam pointed out.

"That's what we _call _myth." Jacey sighed. "I want to… not believe. My brain… refuses to comprehend that visions and that a thing like… like Death could exist. But on the other hand… Sabrina and Ruby seem to firmly believe that it is real."

"If I'm honest…" Adam spoke up. "I… I feel like I have to wait for something else to happen to start to believe it. It's just a bit… too fantastical for me. Bridge and Charlie… it could honestly be a coincidence. Three people… that won't be. But two…"

"But what's if the next thing to happen is your death?" Corey pointed out.

Adam looked to the floor. "I've been close to death before… I don't fear it. That's not to say I want to die…" Adam closed his eyes. "My… answer still stands. I just need more evidence."

"I have to agree with Adam." Jacey fingered a strand of hair. "Bridge was saved. If… if someone IS next, then they could be saved. Something else needs to happen."

"You guys make all the sense in the world." Corey pulled off his beanie and started fiddling with it. "…but I can't take the risk. Call me a coward but… but I am scared to bits of dying. I… want to do anything and everything I can to help stop whatever is happening."

"That isn't cowardice." Jacey smiled. "I'm sure Sabrina and Ruby will appreciate that support. I just hope they understand our point of view."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to YajuuKikuishi, LocalTalent53 & Grobandian180 for your reviews! Something which I haven't done before is explore people's reactions in terms of the belief of visions and Death. It's something I find really interesting in Encore, trying to figure out "realistic" reactions. **

'**Till next time! **


	20. Maylene

_17:30_

Jace found himself watching a stranger. The dark blonde hair was swept back behind his ears, revealing a handsome clean-shaven face underneath, supported by a smile. The scar on the stranger's cheek was the only way Jace knew who he was looking at. Himself. He was walking down a pale white stone path towards a faded pink-walled house. In one hand he held a small black box that had a silver ribbon tied neatly around, with his other hand in his pocket.

Jace recognised this scene. He could feel the sweat dotting on his face and tried to draw himself away, to get out of this memory. No matter how much he tried, he was stuck watching himself walking up a small set of stairs. He wanted to shout, "don't go in there!" He wanted to roar and scream but his voice was gone. Instead he was stuck watching his hand reach towards the doorknob and enter the house.

He could remember his thoughts, as clearly as if he were talking. _It's dark… the lights have been turned off. She must have gone upstairs, maybe even to sleep. It's no surprise, she needed to cool off. _Jace watched himself reach up to the still fresh cut on his cheek, covered by a thick plaster.

Don't! Just walk away! Leave!

He followed unwillingly as Jace poked his head into each room just to make sure. All was empty. Jace started up the staircase, hand on the rail. _She should accept this gift I know she's wanted it for a long while. I need to make sure she knows that it's not her fault. People get stressed all the time, it's just a matter of life. _

Reaching the top of the stairs, Jace called out softly, "Maylene?" It was loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to wake her if she was sleeping.

Please don't make me… I don't want to see this… Jace tried pulling himself away to no avail. Why was he seeing this? He knew what happened next, he didn't need visual proof of it.

Jace reached the bedroom and stopped, listening for movement. Hearing nothing, he slowly opened the door.

Please… don't…

The black box fell from his hand, bouncing off the carpet. Jace stood, staring, not quite comprehending, at the motionless body hanging from the light fixture.

He watched, feeling those emotions rise up again, the way they had been. Shock, slowly merging into panic, until finally he gained his senses.

"Maylene!" Jace rushed forward, grabbing Maylene about the waist to support her. He used his foot to tip the chair she must have stood on back up, and climbed up on it himself. Keeping one hand tight around her waist, he reached up with his free hand and tugged at the rope. The fixture had already been loosened from the weight of a human body, and it didn't give much resistance before it tore down in a shower of plaster.

The free weight took him off guard and he tumbled to the floor, landing on his back with Maylene draped across his chest. Jace's breath came in short panicked gasps. He carefully pushed her on her back and looked at her, mouth quivering. Her chest didn't move, her eyes blank.

"No, no, no… no… no…" Jace put a shaky hand to her neck as tears slipped from his eyes. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to do, oh god… CPR. Jace put one hand over the other and pressed down on her chest, feeling useless. He pressed every two seconds, not knowing if it was the right way to do it. "Please, Maylene, please…" Remembering what he had seen on TV shows, he leant down and pressed his lips on her own, trying to breath for her.

Her body was cold and limp. Dead.

At this realization, Jace shot backwards, knocking a lamp from its stand without a care, a hand over his mouth. He clawed at his face, screaming. He slammed into one wall, knocking a picture loose, allowing glass to smash over the floor. His screams were loud, primal, ragged. Nails tore through skin, combining blood with tears. One nail pulled both the plaster and his cheek wound wide open, allowing more blood to spatter against his chest.

He was like a beast, crazed, not thinking. He beat at the wall, at his body, swept things off the desk, knocked a bookcase forward, spilling book all over the floor. He wailed, his voice faltering. He knelt in the mess of the room, next to Maylene's side.

In his unstable state he smashed his fist on her chest. "Wake up!" He smashed at her chest again. "Wake up!" A third one caused an audible crack to be heard. "W-Wake up!" Jace's face had melted in grief and horror. He fell head-down on her stomach, cradling his head with his arms. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Rain hit the windows hard. Thunder rumbled and when the lightning flashed, the bedroom and the mess was gone, replaced by the classic décor of the hotel. Instead of being face down on Maylene's stomach, he was face down on a dark wood table, his eyes wet and the smell of copper fresh in his nose. He pulled himself up and felt at his cheek, confirming his fears. He had ripped his scar open again, allowing blood to spill down his face.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

Jace looked up to the young blonde receptionist, who's usually beamy face was replaced with one of worry and confusion. That was when he realized Maylene was still sitting across from him, pale with the black dress and the noose around her neck. "…go away…"

The receptionist leaned forward slightly, missing what he said. "Pardon me, si-"

"Go away!" Jace roared at Maylene, pushing himself up from his seat and striding forward, pushed the receptionist back with a hand and knocking her with a small shriek on her rear. Jace spun around and glared at Maylene as she stood up from the seat and seemed to glide towards him. "Go! Away!" Jace walked backwards, his unawareness causing him to knock into a glass table with magazines and newspapers lined up on it. He fell backwards, the glass smashing into shards under his weight. Jace's arms took the brunt of the shards, cutting up his wrists and fingers. A couple stayed stuck in the skin. He brought the crimson hands to his face blankly and looked past them back at Maylene, who stared at him.

He pushed up from the floor in a panic, ignoring the fact that he had pushed a shard almost all the way through his hand. Jace spun around and half-ran, half-staggered to the door of the hotel, pushing his way to the outside. The rain hit him like a waterfall, drenching him in an instant. Blood ran in watery rivers to the floor from his cheek and his hands. Jace panted and turned, feeling an increased panic as he saw Maylene walk through the door as if it were air, her eyes unforgivably accusing.

Lightning flashed through the sky as Jace yelled at her again, his voice almost lost over the sound of the rain. A pedestrian looked at him in surprise and fear, but Jace pushed past her without a thought. He stumbled on the curb, falling hard on his hands and knees on the road. He could taste salt in his mouth. The tears were still flowing but he didn't care. He just wanted to get away, wanted Maylene to just leave him alone.

Jace crawled forward on his hands and knees, numb and hurting. The shard of glass had been pushed all the way through his hand, leaving a vicious gash and caused a mess of blood. The honking of a horn overcame the rain and Jace turned to see a man get out of his car. The man approached, already on his mobile phone. Jace glanced back to the curb and saw Maylene, the rain going through her. The eyes… the eyes… Jace let out a wild scream without thought and pushed himself back to his feet, sprinting across the road.

His feet hit the opposite curb and he fell forward, scraping his lips and nose against the pavement, splitting the bottom lip. He stayed still for a moment and felt an arm on his shoulder. He spun around and swatted at the stranger's arms with enough force to send him staggering back. "Get away… from me…" Jace growled, at both the stranger and Maylene alike, who stood halfway in the car that had stopped. Jace groaned and stood up, managing to run a few steps into a flat grass area, slick with rain and mud.

Jace's legs locked up and he stopped, panting, tears, rain and blood mixing together in a grief-stricken cocktail. He turned and found Maylene glaring at him from the pavement. He suddenly felt something rise up, all the anger, all the hurt, all the grief he had suffered for four mouths… all because of her.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" He roared, his voice echoing through the street. Maylene didn't respond to his voice, only slid forward slowly. "I LOVED YOU!" Jace took a step back, panting. "I GRIEVED FOR YOU!" Maylene seemed to slow down, her eyes seemed a little less hostile. Jace's shoulders slumped. "I… wanted… so much from you, Maylene. I… had dreams of… of a life together! Of marriage! Of… of kids… running around… we'd live to a ripe old age… with grandchildren… happy…" Rain cascaded down his face, the blood all but gone now. "…arguments… happen to couples…" He shook his head. "Why? Why did you kill yourself…? Why?" Jace looked to Maylene for answers.

She raised her hand slowly and extended a finger, pointing at Jace.

It hit him like a bullet. He clenched at his chest, horrified. "Me? You… honestly… believe… I caused this? I… blamed myself, but I never thought…" He took another step back. "…what did I do to deserve it? Did you kill yourself just to… get back at me… for something…" He looked at her pleadingly. "What did I do?"

The air lit up like a firework, bright and blinding. Jace covered his eyes at the proximity of the flash, his ears barely recognising the loud _boom_ as the lightning crashed through the sky, hitting a telephone pole on the grassy area. The heavy metal wires snapped off and soared through the air, sparking. Jace blinked, his eyes adjusted just as one of the wires whipped around his neck, wrapping itself tight. Jace's eyes widened and he could feel the live electric coursing through his body.

Whiteness blurred at the edges of his vision. He looked back at Maylene and saw the pointing finger had turned into a beckoning gesture. Jace opened his mouth but he couldn't think. He felt like his brain was buzzing and wasn't connecting his thoughts. Maylene… Jace found his arm raising, reaching for her.

His lungs protested at the lack of air. Jace fell to his knees, one hand grasping at the cable around his neck, his other reaching for Maylene. Maylene walked forward, her eyes sorrowful.

Her fingertips touched Jace's.

The white took over his whole vision and he felt, for the first time in four months, at peace. Happy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to LocalTalent53 for your review. This was a hard chapter, a couple of rewrites for this one. Found my rhythm thought and am ultimately happy with the way this turned out. **

** 'Till next time! **


	21. Crime Scene

_18:30_

"Shit."

"Language."

"Sorry… two could be a coincidence. Three…" Indigo Nettle stared at the white sheet covering the deceased and shook her head. She turned to her partner and superior. "What's the plan?"

Detective Inspector Nathan Furrow stood tall and proud. His white blonde hair had been slicked back over his skull, showing off his hard cheekbones and pointed chin. A pencil-thin moustache split in the middle rested on his upper lip, and his piercing blue eyes were covered by a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. As he stared at the scene with his hands behind his back, his face gave no hint to what he was thinking.

He was known around the CID as the Iceman. Apparently the same people who named serial killers came up with just as inventive names for superiors. While it was true to those who didn't know him, Indigo simply knew him as calculating and calm. His eyes flicked over the scene, starting at the white sheet covering the victim and the small gazebo covering both. They glanced to the broken telephone pole, the electric cable which had been cut free, and trailed over the street where a car had stopped, finally resting at the bloody handprint at the front door of the hotel.

Barriers had already been erected, blocking the street off completely. Officers milled around the scene of the crime, looking through the grass or moving down the street, looking for evidence. Some stood at the barriers to ensure no-one passed while others had notepads and were questioning witnesses. Nathan could see two standing outside. A young man in his twenties and a woman who could only be his girlfriend.

"The plan." Nathan replied after his split-second analyse. "Go through what we know."

This was no surprise to Indigo. Nathan knew exactly what information they had, but he liked hearing Indigo recap it. Perhaps he thought of it as a test for her. Either way, Indigo started by nodding to the covered body. "The victim's name is Jace Ryan. He came from Canada to attend the For the People festival. After the bus crash which he, the other contest winners, and some musicians were involved in, he was given a place at the hotel free of charge by one of the festival's organizers, Eddy Cool." She glanced up to the overcast sky. A few droplets of rain still hit the floor occasionally, but the torrent from an hour ago had subsided for the most part. "Unfortunately, the rain has washed away most evidence outside, but that's not to say we haven't got _any_ evidence."

Indigo led Nathan to the body. She crouched over the sheet while Nathan stood, peering under his glasses. She could almost see the gears turning in his head. Indigo peeled the white sheet down to the young man's chest.

The most noticeable thing about Jace Ryan's body was the thick red markings on his neck, caused by the telephone cable strangling him. It was blackened in some places, burnt. His eyes were speckled with red and his mouth was a thin line.

"What seems to have happened is lightning struck that telephone pole-" She motioned with her hand. "-which broke the cable free. The cable came down, wrapped itself around the victim's neck, and strangled him to death."

"Is that the official cause of death?" Nathan asked.

"No. Coroner hasn't arrived yet – apparently he's been held up."

"It's been an hour since we were called."

"He was held up for an hour." Indigo shrugged. "I expect he'll be here within the next ten minutes or so."

"Continue."

"The victim, according to Mr. Harvey's witness account, stumbled out of the hotel doors." She motioned with her hands again, first to the couple standing by the car, and then to the hotel doors. Indigo started walking, Nathan following close behind. "Apparently he was shouting at nothing. 'Insane' he was described. Mr. Harvey says that the victim was covered in blood, all over his face, his clothes, his arms. That matches with the state of the victim. His arms were shredded through from glass, which came from-" Indigo pushed through the lobby doors with an elbow and motioned at a broken glass table. "This table."

"Has the third witness been questioned?" Nathan's gaze turned to the receptionists desk, where a blonde lady sat sniffling, dabbing at her eyes with tissues.

"Yes."

"Good. There were four of the other contest winners from the bus staying here, Jacey Rae Callibaster, Ruby Ascot, Corey Walker, and Emma Fischer. Find them, bring them down into the lobby, I'll want to talk to them."

Indigo nodded, and walked to the desk to get the room information. Nathan followed her with her eyes. Indigo was one of the best with an upbeat personality that could get serious in a heartbeat. Initially, there were worries by a couple of the… undesirable policeman that a black woman couldn't be that high in the food chain. Indigo proved them all wrong, working hard and getting along wonderfully with near everyone. Indigo wasn't scared to speak her mind and Nathan considered that one of her best traits. He looked around the large lobby, noting a camera high up in a corner looking towards the window and down to the seats. He turned and walked up to the sniffling receptionist as Indigo walked off, a key in her hand.

"Excuse me, miss," Nathan said quietly. The receptionist looked up at him, make-up smeared and eyes red. "Do you have a security room where the feed for that camera leads to?"

"Y-Yes." The receptionist pointed to a door at the back, almost hidden by the stairs. "Go at your pleasure. It's unlocked. T-Todd should be in there."

"Thank you." Nathan approached the door and let himself in, the light level immediately lowering even more than it already was. It was dark and dank and dirty. Nathan glanced around the room. It was small, almost like a dead-end corridor. At the end of the room a desk stood with a grated box. Through the grates he could see a screen with the current-time grainy feed of the camera.

"Not th' most beautiful of places, but it does its job."

A man was sat facing the wall at the other end of the room, almost invisible in black clothes as he leaned over an open folder. He shut it with a thump and turned, pushing up his glasses with the palm of his hand.

"Police, I presume?"

"Nathan Furrow, Detective Inspector." Nathan offered his hand in a polite gesture, despite the fact that he certainly didn't think this man's hands had been washed any time recently. "Todd?"

"Aye, hasn't changed last I checked." Todd shook the hand quickly. "You'll be wantin' to look at the camera feed?"

"If it wouldn't be any trouble."

"Go 'head. Fuck all happens round here anyway. The remote's inside the grate – the code for the padlock is one-five-eight-one." Todd stood up and left, pushing past Nathan. Nathan was surprised. In his experience, the security liked to watch the police, some were suspicious, while others just wanted to make sure their machines weren't broken. It seemed that security was not a big deal at this hotel.

He put in the code and pulled open the grated door. As promised, the remote sat inside at the base of the monitor, although it was covered with a layer of dust. Nathan held it gingerly and hit the rewind button. Waiting a few minutes, he saw the last hour zip by, the police disappearing backwards out of the building. The camera was positioned just so it caught the door, but not the windows, stopping just short, so Nathan could not see anything happening outside. The lobby was quiet for the last hour. At the motion of movement he paused the video and spotted two women heading towards the door. One seemed to be aggravated and angry, the detail in the video too bad to catch the expression. The other was trying to hold her back. The short-haired woman pushed past and disappeared out the door. Only a few seconds and she came back in and strode past the longer-haired one, disappearing out of view. The longer-haired one stayed there for a few seconds, before following.

Interesting. Nathan hit the rewind again and waited until another motion hit the cameras. He watched in fast-rewind as the victim backed through the door, fell onto the broken table, picked himself up, the table forming below him, and sat down in a seat. Nathan paused and played the video.

Jace Ryan sat with his head in his arms on the table, unmoving. After a few seconds his head jerked upwards, and despite the quality and black-and-white, Nathan could see what he could only assume was blood on the man's cheek. He stared blankly ahead before the receptionist approached. After a few more seconds he finally noticed her. Or… he was looking past the receptionist, shouting, his face twisting. Jace pushed himself off the seat and backed away, tripping and smashing through the table. Nathan watched as he picked himself up, completely ignoring the fact that his arms were now covered in glass, and went out of the door in a rush, leaving a blood trail behind him. He paused the video, the receptionist standing at the window, watching.

"Something angered him." Nathan said. "The question is what?" He turned and looked down at Indigo. She was as silent as a cat, but Nathan's hearing was excellent.

"Perhaps a nightmare had lingered? He saw something that wasn't there… freaked out and ran outside."

"It could be. Are the four gathered?"

"Six."

"Oh?"

"Sabrina Holland and Adam Treeland both were here. Sabrina in Ruby Ascot's room and Adam in Jacey Rae Callibaster's. Would you like me to bring them here? It's as isolated as you're going to get."

"No. I want to talk to them together. They seem like a group, if we keep them together they may feel a little bit more comfortable. The more comfortable they are, the more likely they'll be honest." Nathan led the way out of the security room, Todd nowhere to be seen. Standing at the base of the stairs in varying states of emotion stood the now four foreign survivors and two visitors.

He spotted the two girls from the camera straight away. One with bright red hair that couldn't be seen on the black-and-white feed, and the other with a harsh scar on her lip. The red-haired girl had been crying, her eyes were wet and she was blinking rapidly. The scarred one seemed upset but was keeping composed.

Another female was pale and standing stock-still, glancing at Nathan as he approached. She seemed to be more foreign than just America. Perhaps Swedish or German. The last female was on the chubby side of things, wearing black clothes and black make-up. She was pale, but Nathan could guess that it was a natural colour.

One of the men was wringing a beanie cap through his hands nervously, his eyes flitting to the window and then back to the floor. The other had his arms crossed stiffly and his mouth set in a thin line.

"I'm Detective Inspector Nathan Furrow." Nathan greeted. "Could I get your names?" Indigo stood at his elbow, notepad in hand.

"…Corey." The one with the beanie said after a moment of silence.

"Adam Treeland."

"Jacey Rae."

"Emma."

"…R-Ruby…"

And finally, "Sabrina."

Nathan nodded. "Thank you. Now, as you are aware, Jace Ryan was involved in an accident about an hour ago."

"Awful lot of police for an accident." Sabrina put in. "Especially detectives.

"We are making sure to cover all bases. We wouldn't want to miss something vital. Let us start with something simple, okay? Did any of you know Jace Ryan?"

"We didn't _know _him." Sabrina said. "The only connection we had was from the bus"

"H-He wasn't exactly talkative." Corey put in. "He liked to be alone, I think. He definitely seemed moody a lot of the time… even angry."

"With what?" Nathan asked.

"With life." Sabrina answered, looking off the side. Nathan caught the look from Ruby, an accusing glare. It was clear she knew something. Nathan made a note in the back of his head to talk to her alone later.

"What the _hell _is going on!?" Nathan turned around to find a thin man storm into the building, two police officers trailing him. He was red in the face and angry. "I hear something went wrong here but a dead body!? That's… that's just…"

"Could I ask who you are, sir?" Nathan questioned.

The man frowned and adjusted his tie. "I am Terry Salt, and I own this establishment. Could you explain just what is happening?"

Nathan glanced to Indigo but she was already stepping forward. "Of course. Come with me, sir, and I'll explain what has happened." She led him away to the corner of the room, away from Nathan. He turned back to the survivors. "Sabrina. Adam. You two don't have a room here."

"We were invited." Sabrina said. Adam nodded in agreement. Nathan glanced towards Terry Salt and noticed him getting increasingly agitated. He knew he'd have to step in.

"That's all the questions I have for now. Do not leave the premises, there is a possibility you may be in danger. If you'd like to inquire more or come forward with information you know, find either myself or Indigo, or talk to one of the police officers outside the door."

"I see." Sabrina snorted. "So this is a murder investigation."

"Why would you say that?" Nathan was interested in Sabrina. She seemed intelligent, yet naïve.

"Come on, detective inspector, it's obvious. You wouldn't have this much going on if this were an accident." She turned to the other survivors. "Better get your alibis in order. They'll be trying to pin this on one of us." The glare at Nathan was full of hostility, surprising him somewhat. He took note to look her up on the record system. She's encountered authority before, without a doubt. The question was, what had she experienced… or what has she done?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to LocalTalent53 & YajuuKikushi for the reviews! Okay, so good news! I have the next four-five chapters planned out, so I'm gonna tentatively say that it'll only be a few days 'till the next chapter. Tentatively, mind you, things like go wrong just when you got things right. **

**Fun Fact:- Indigo and Nathan are the last two major characters to be introduced in the story, so the full main cast has now been revealed. **

'**Till the next time!**


	22. Answers

_22:40_

Emma sat on the bottom step of the staircase leading up higher in the hotel. She sipped from a glass of water, staring at the darkness ahead of her. The light cast shadows, long and threatening, reaching through the windows. Some moved – remnants of the police officers who had remained outside. The usual receptionist had left – the hotel closed to all but the people who were already staying there. After the accident, it had emptied quickly. As far as Emma could tell, the only people left were the survivors from the bus.

She felt queer. She hadn't known Jace at all, but his death had shaken everyone. Perhaps it was the fact that it seemed Ruby and Sabrina were right; Perhaps it was just that death was a horrible thing to happen close to you. Either way, Emma could not find any solace in sleep. Her mind refused to shut down, so she had left her small room to watch through the windows, thinking, one thought coming to her mind again and again.

Am I in danger?

One part of her wanted to say no. This was all just some crazy coincidence. Bridge, Charlie Walker, Jace Ryan… it was all chance. It had to be, right? What Sabrina and Ruby were saying… it was crazy.

The other part of her said of course it was real. You have all the evidence in front of you but you're just acting blind. You are in danger, there's no doubt about it.

Emma wanted more than anything to believe the first part of her… but she knew it was a false thought. Three accidents… three men who were in the bus… Ruby and Sabrina's story… there were no ifs and buts, this was real. If it's real, the next question would be… am I next?

The thought of death scared Emma. She was young in her life and wanted to witness so much more of the world. Would this… this Death just strike all that away from her? Would it be painful? Quick? Slow? Or would it just happen and she wouldn't realise it happened at all. Just… gone, just like that, without any knowledge of it happening.

Would she never again get to play her music, to lose herself into that wonderful world? Would she never again get to witness the wonders of life? Would she never again get to go home back to Germany?

The sound of the lobby doors swinging open drew Emma's attention. With a grim face, Eddy Cool shrugged down the hood of his coat and his eyes drifted to Emma. A flash of surprise showed on his face before he walked forward.

"I was expecting you to be upstairs."

Emma shook her head. "I can't be up there right now…"

"Is down here any better?" Eddy glanced back to the crime scene. The lobby had been cleaned and cleared, and the body had been taken away, but the crime scene tape outside was still up. "I… I heard what happened. Did you… did you see it happen?"

"No… thankfully. We were all in our rooms. I… I did… see his body… when the lightning flashed I looked out the window… and saw him there… for an instant…" Emma held the glass of water tighter, trying to stop her hands from shaking. Eddy spotted them and frowned. He sat down next to her on the stairs, one hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay, Emma?"

Emma shook her head. "There is no way I can be. Today a man I've seen has died. I may not have known him but… but I saw him living, breathing, talking. Now that is… all gone."

Eddy looked at her for a moment, his eyes twinkling as they always did. In the silence, Emma noticed the smell of alcohol on Eddy's breath. Eddy noticed her look and managed a small smile. "I'm not drunk, don't worry. I've drank just enough to keep my courage up, but not enough to make any stupid mistakes."

"Courage for what?"

"For…" Eddy looked down to his feet. "For tomorrow…" He glanced up to Emma and spoke before she could ask a question. "Emma, I know this is horrible for me to ask, considering the circumstances, but… but can you still make it to the restaurant tomorrow?"

"Mr. Cool… I…" Emma bit her lip. "Three people I've been in contact with have had accidents… two of them are dead… one of them hasn't woken up from his injuries. I can't say that my mind's in the right place to… to play the music for you."

"I understand." Eddy nodded. The duo stayed silent for a good few minutes, watching the shadows flitter in the evening light.

Emma hated saying the truth, but she really wasn't sure she could play her music well at all. Eddy had seemed so happy when she had accepted from before. That was before everything had happened, though… before everything had crashed and burned. She turned to him to apologize, but Eddy spoke first, looking at the window, but not seeing it.

"I… My life has been… up and down. I always smiled my worries away… it was easy, y'know? I grew up with ease, I never had any difficulties. Then life hit hard and fast. I was in debt and… well, shit, lots of stuff happened…" Eddy closed his eyes. "I don't mean to tell a sob story… that's the last thing I mean to do… it's just…" He grit his teeth. "I've made… three big mistakes in my life, Emma… and those three mistakes are the things I hold most precious in my life. Aiden… Rose… Isabella… my children, the lights of my life. Twenty-two years ago I met Lily and we… we took it off. I loved her so, so much. She was the one who supported me, at least for a few months.

"Then… then she got pregnant. I was so happy, I thought – this is it. This is the chance I've been looking for, this will make everything so much better." The twinkle in Eddy's eyes had been replaced with a gloss of wetness. "Lily didn't think so. She wanted an abortion, she wanted to get rid of it, she… she left one night. My efforts had been in vain and all I found was a small piece of paper on the bed… I thought it was over. I was certain it was over.

"…forty weeks later I was awoken by a knock on my door. I made my way to it, opened it and… and it was like a fairy-tale. It was a baby, in a basket…" Eddy smiled with a sad face. "Isabella, I called her. Thankfully, after proving I was the father, I was allowed to raise her… but five years later I met Lily again. It was okay to meet her… we talked amiably, kept our tempers. Then I… I made the mistake of bedding her again. I hated it so much and we both parted ways, perhaps too scared to face what would come. It happened again… a knock on my door and a baby at my doorstep. This time, the divorce papers came with Aiden.

"That wasn't the end of it, though… three years after I made my third mistake. I don't know what came over me, and I don't know why she accepted it. But once again my third child appeared on my doorstep. I imagine the hospital were confused as to why these babies kept appearing. With three children, I vowed not to make a fourth, at least… at least not with Lily. I've never seen her since the third mistake.

"And only a few months ago I met Felicity and… and she's, quite frankly, amazing." Eddy looked up to Emma. It was a terrible, but somewhat beautiful story. "It's not too late for those kids to have a mother. When I ask… when I ask the Felicity the question I… I need her to say yes. I need to do everything within my power to… to get that answer. Shit, I know it's wrong… to tell you my life story, to get you feeling sorry for me… but… to have you there, performing music she loves… it would mean the world to me."

Emma sighed. How could she in good conscience deny such a request? He had poured his heart out to her and Emma felt like she knew him so much more. "I… I will do as you ask, Eddy. Tell me where to go and I'll do my best to go there."

* * *

><p><em>22:54<em>

It took a long while for Sabrina to work up the courage to speak. Ruby had been silent ever since they had run to the lobby to see Jace's body through the window. Sabrina had to force Ruby not to go out there, there was nothing they could have done. Sabrina knew that was the wrong thing to say when Ruby stormed off. At the very least, Ruby hadn't told to leave yet, that had to count for something.

"I…" Sabrina started and found her voice came out in a squeak. She frowned and cleared her throat as Ruby glanced toward her. "I only wanted to protect you, Ruby." Sabrina managed to say. "Your body cannot handle the visions I receive about the next death… and I didn't tell you because you weren't in the right mind set after Charlie Walker's death."

Ruby shook her head. "It isn't the fact that you didn't tell me." Anger was flecked in her words. These deaths were definitely taking a toll on the happy, bubbly Ruby from before. "It's the fact you didn't _do _anything about it."

That hit harder than Sabrina expected, despite the fact she had saw it coming. She could almost hear the words 'just like you didn't help your family' come out of Ruby's mouth, but she knew that was just her hearing things.

"I… I figured it wouldn't happen today. We'd already had two in a row, I didn't think… I didn't guess…" She sighed. "I know I fucked up and I'm not going to ask for forgiveness – you can't forgive human death. Jace's death is on me…" Sabrina looked at Ruby, pleading to her eyes with her own. "But please, I want you… I need you to help me with this."

"Stand up." Ruby said quietly, standing up herself. Sabrina followed the request, standing up in front of Ruby. She tried to read Ruby's face but found herself unable to. "Sabrina… that… that little girl in the room… yourself. You need to let her out."

Sabrina didn't want to hear anything about that, certainly not now. She crossed her arms. "Ruby…"

"You're holding something back!" Ruby exclaimed, eyes wide. "You've been holding something back since the very beginning. I want to know what happened to you before with your other vision, I want to know what the hell is going on, I want to know _exactly _what we're dealing with. It's all been vague… Death? The list? Why!?"

With a shake of her head, Sabrina frowned. "I don't have those answers, Sabrina."

The fist came at her in an instant. Sabrina was too taken off guard to do anything about it as it hit her in the cheek, snapping her head sideways. Ruby pushed forward, grabbing Sabrina around the collar and pushing her against a wall.

"Sabrina! Stop fucking around! This is _our _lives on the line. All of us, you, me, the people in the hotel, the rest that were in the bus. I tried to be sensitive with you before but this time I _need_ to know what the hell is going on. You're keeping something hidden inside you and that hurts me, Sabrina."

Sabrina closed her eyes, Ruby's hands still bunched up on her collar. "I can't simply let her out of the box, Ruby. It took me a long while to get myself in there. I can't just undo years of work just by your request… and I'm sorry it hurts you, but quite frankly… secrets should stay in the depths of a heart."

"What have you got to hide? As far as I'm aware, you've had a vision before but you seem like a normal girl!"

"Exactly. As far as _you're _aware." Sabrina's eyes narrowed. "We've only known each other for a few days. They have been long days, filled with events, but days none-the-less. I consider you a friend, Ruby, but by simple logic I can't trust someone with my secrets knowing them only a few days."

Ruby frowned. "I just… I just can't see what you could have to hide… I…" Sabrina set her eyes firm. Ruby caught the look and something appeared in her eyes, something Sabrina noticed was fear. Ruby let go of her collar. "Just… just who are you, Sabrina? What have you done?"

Those simple words set something off in Sabrina. Without thinking she knocked Ruby's arms away from her collar and brought up one hand, latching it around Ruby's throat. She found herself squeezing tightly and with a hiss, said, "I've… done… _nothing_!"

After a second Sabrina caught herself. She let go quickly, as if she had been shocked, and backed away, crossing her arms around her chest tightly. Ruby rubbed her neck and looked to Sabrina. "I'm… I'm sorry for pressing, I shouldn't have… it wasn't my place. Let's just… just go to sleep. The day's been long and I think we could all do with some rest."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: - Thanks to Yajuu-Kikuishi for the review! **

**A chapter I've been looking forward to writing for quite a while is coming up soon. Just 1 more before it…**

'**Till then! **


	23. Pandora's Box

_23:00_

Orange on yellow, blurring into flickers of blue. Spots moving, merging, flitting in and out. Occasionally a spot burst, exploding like a firework in a night sky. Each spark in turn burst again, a flower of light. The flickering increased, the sparks bursting in a quicker pace. The storm took over the calm, breaking, exploding and forming rapidly, turning into a blur of color. The colors soon merged together as one, turning into a bright explosion of vivid red, spreading all over, engulfing everything else. A red abyss… and in the middle, a white dot, slowly, ever so slowly growing in size. The bigger it became the faster it went, growing larger, a tidal wave of white, until it came rushing like a speeding car, like a waterfall, like a bullet-

Bridge sat up in an instant, breathing low and steady. For a second he thought he was blind. He opened and closed his eyes, making sure. Then the lines of the room slowly came into focus. He turned his head to look at the window. The blinds were open and the night sky was devoid of stars, covered by a low, brooding black cloud. Bridge took a breath and mentally checked his body. He could feel his toes, his calves, his thighs, moving up to his stomach, his chest, down his biceps and into his fingers. Nothing was wrong with his neck, nor his face, nor his head.

If nothing was wrong, the question was why the hell was he in a hospital room?

Bridge tried to remember what he was doing last. Trying to play a song but he couldn't quite get it… and it confused him, frustrated him. He didn't make mistakes, he never made errors. When he needed a song he made a song, as simple as that. His eyes moved from the window to an empty seat. At least, he thought it was empty, before he caught the shimmer of light on some kind of design. He let his eyes adjust more until he could see a jacket had been slung on the back of the chair. Bridge frowned. He knew that jacket, especially when the design that shone became clear – an eagle.

She was here.

Bridge swept the covers from his legs and swung around, placing his bare feet on the floor. His legs were covered by his normal trousers, but his other clothes were gone. He felt a small itch on his side but ignored it. Standing up, he cracked his neck. His body felt stiff and it felt good to move it again. Bridge glanced around the room once more, this time spotting a bottle of water on the side-table near the chair. He wondered where she was, grabbing at the bottle for a drink.

His hand missed.

Bridge frowned. He tried again, but once more his hand seemed to miss the bottle. The itch in his side grew worse. He grabbed at the bottle for a third time, this time his fingers catching it but knocking it off the table. It bounced off the floor and rolled, hitting the wall. Bridge raised his fingers to his eyes and looked the lines in the darkness. Something seemed… off. Something was wrong.

The light-switch seemed to prove just as elusive as the bottle. Bridge smacked the wall two times before an open palm finally hit the switch. The light hummed to life, slowly increasing in intensity. The darkness disappeared, lighting up the turquoise walls, the jacket on the chair, and the bed. On the right side of his vision it seemed the darkness was being stubborn. Bridge tried to blink it away but it stayed. He moved his hand to his face and swiped his fingers down the right side. They ran over some sort of material, feeling like cling-film. His fingers were over his right eye… but he couldn't see them at all.

Bridge clenched his teeth and grabbed at the cling-film like material, scrunching it up and ripping it from his face. The blackness persisted. He put his fingers over the right side of his face again and found it mottled and uneven. Bridge pressed harder onto his cheek but found he could feel nothing. His fingers moved upwards towards his eye and found… nothing. His fingers swiped at an empty socket.

He felt the stirring of anger in his chest, clutching hard. Bridge quickly moved to a side door, opening it to find what he suspected – a private washroom. The light flickered on and Bridge stood in front of the mirror above the sink.

His beaded hair strands hung loose over the left side of his face, so pale it was almost white. Bridge moved his gaze to the right side of his face. He drew in a breath with a hiss. The skin was red, mottled and dead, especially around his empty socket. Bone showed through where the skin and muscle had completely gone. Bridge pressed his fingers to the side of his face once more, but still felt nothing.

"You're awake."

Bridge turned around, looking down at Lily. He tried to control the feeling rising from his chest. "What… happened."

"You burnt half your face off." Lily shrugged. "Took a pyro-technic effect to the face. Lost a bunch'a nerves, and, y'know, your eye."

Bridge closed his eyes... or, well, his eye as it now seemed. He could remember now, he could remember tripping, falling. Looking straight down that tube, seeing the sparks at the bottom, rising… before something had slammed into his ribs. Bridge turned to look at Lily. "You… You kicked me."

"Quite hard. I broke two of your ribs and fractured a third." Lily smiled.

Moving his hands down his left side, he found that it was taped up. That would explain the itch at his side. Bridge frowned and looked back in the mirror.

"Bet you're glad I stalk you now." Lily stood next to him, her head lower than his shoulder.

"Why were you even there?"

"As I said… stalking." Lily crossed her arms. "But that is not the important question. What happened on that stage?" Her eyes flashed as her gaze connected with his eye in the mirror. "You tripped."

"I _don't_ trip."

"Well, your face would beg to differ."

"Exactly." Bridge walked back into the room and looked around. He opened the drawer of the tabletop and found what he was looking for – his clothes. As he pulled on his vest he asked, "How long have I been here?"

"The whole day. It's twenty to eleven." Bridge frowned. He didn't like losing time, especially when he wasn't aware of it. Lily stood next to him again. "Been quite an eventful day."

"How so?"

"Well, cowboy Walker died in a car crash and Jace Ryan got fried."

Charlie Walker and Jace Ryan. Two people from the bus. Bridge looked down at Lily. "We need to find Sabrina Holland."

"Way ahead of you. Get your coat."

Lily was more intelligent than he gave her credit for. It seemed she had recognised that Sabrina Holland had turned the bus before the cars even appeared. With these two deaths and his accident… he wanted answers.

* * *

><p><em>23:10<em>

Lying on her back and closing her eyes, Jacey Rae found that sleep refused to come. She had been lying on the bed for about an hour, trying to force herself to sleep, but it was to no avail. Jacey couldn't quite figure out just what it was that was preventing it. It wasn't the death – she had seen many images online of dead people and it didn't faze her. Perhaps it was the threat of death for herself but even then… she felt somewhat blank about it. Maybe it was simply guilt. She had decided not to help Sabrina and Ruby, to wait until something happened.

Jacey turned on the bed and looked to the figure lying on the floor. She was surprised when Adam had asked to stay, but not entirely sad about it. It would be much worse to be alone and having a friend in the room was nice. Besides, the police wanted them to stay at the hotel so while it wasn't technically allowed, they had gotten away with it. It was slightly weird to consider Adam a friend – they barely knew each other but already they had shared secrets.

"I see you can't get to sleep either." Adam's voice rose from the blankets he was covered in. Jacey just caught a twinkle of the eyes looking at her.

"Nope… I just feel wide awake. That's unusual, considering the day we've had."

"Yeah." Adam sat up. "I don't think I'll be able to get to sleep tonight." He paused for a while before speaking again. "My boyfriend, the one I told you about before, his name was Nathan."

"What's brought this about?"

"I was thinking about Jace's death… and that got me thinking about Nathan's and about him in general. He was a great man… a wonderful man." Adam shut his eyes. "He told me something… just before he died, just before we were attacked, he said… he said he loved me. It was the first time either of us had said it despite being together for a while." Opening his eyes again, Adam frowned. "I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this I just…" He bit his lip. "I just want to see him again."

"That isn't going to happen." Jacey said quietly.

"I know… I mean, I have pictures, videos but they aren't the same. I won't feel the smoothness of his skin, his hair, the stubble on his cheeks. I won't hear his voice, or smell the deodorant he always wore. Why… why today? I've never missed him as much as a have today."

"A death – no matter how or who – always bring back memories."

Adam nodded. "I wish I could only remember the good ones, but the bad ones leak in as well. We argued sometimes… I hated arguing with him. Not to mention that day when they attacked us…" Adam suddenly pushed himself to his feet and reached for his shirt which he had thrown on the floor. Pulling it on – his trousers already on – he looked down at Jacey. "I want to take you somewhere."

Jacey sat up with a small smile. "At this time of night?"

"It'll still be open."

"What will be?"

"Somewhere very special to me and Nathan. We spent so many nights there."

Jacey nodded. "Okay, that would be nice."

* * *

><p><em>23:15<em>

"I… I'm scared I'm not going to be able to save anyone."

Ruby looked to Sabrina. They were sleeping in the same bed again, which was a comfort as it was a very cold night. It seemed as if sleep was just as elusive for Sabrina as it was for her. "We will."

"No… you don't understand. I… I was bad to you before… I… didn't want to talk and I hurt you… again." Sabrina looked at Ruby. "I need to talk to you about the vision I had before."

"You don't have to. Not if it hurts to talk about it."

"I do. You deserve to know, you've helped me so much already and… it just makes sense." Sabrina took a moment to form her thoughts before starting to speak. "It was my birthday… and my family had taken me to a restaurant, a party for friends as well as family. I was happy, at least until… until I saw it explode, until I saw the people I loved die. I saw myself die as well, for a moment, before I was brought back to reality. I don't know what I was thinking, I hadn't had anything to drink, but it felt… queer, unusual. I excused myself from the table and left the restaurant. I needed fresh air and… before I knew it, I was waking up with fire all around me. The restaurant, it had exploded while I was outside, my vision had become true and… and never once did I even attempt to get the people I loved out of there. I didn't tell them why I left the table but I should have. They would have thought I was crazy but maybe, just maybe if I tried, I could have gotten them out of there. Instead I was the only survivor." Sabrina took a breath. "The girl in the box, Ruby, I don't… I can't let her out because outside of the box I've created for myself lie so many negative thoughts. Guilt, sadness, anger... madness. If I ventured into that territory, I'm afraid of what I would die, of what I would become… but it's becoming harder and harder to stay inside and cracks have started showing… I've snapped at you, cut you, near enough strangled you…"

"And I've punched you… twice, though admittedly one was by accident." Ruby smiled softly. "Sabrina, I… that's a terrible thing to happen to you. But you can't contain those feelings. It isn't only anger and grief and sadness than you are keeping out. But happiness, joy, laughter as well."

"There isn't any place for those emotions, not for me."

"There is always a place for those emotions. Laughter dulls the tears, happiness the sadness, joy the anger. The more you keep those emotions away, the more the negative emotions will want to break inside towards the little girl inside her box." Ruby placed a hand on Sabrina's arm. "You say you keep these emotions outside of your box but… what I saw in you… I saw terror, Sabrina. Pure terror."

"Terror keeps me sane. To be afraid is to be safe."

"I don't believe that." Ruby sat up. "And I'm going to prove it to you."

"What?"

"Come with me. We can't sleep anyway. I want to take you to somewhere where you can have fun and you won't have to worry about all of this, about death, about the list."

"Where?"

"Vermilion. A nightclub I've gone to before and it is one of the best I've ever gone to."

"A nightclub? I can't-"

Ruby practically pulled Sabrina from the bed. "Get dressed. I am taking you to this nightclub and I am going to show you that you don't need to keep any of your emotions locked away, not anymore."

* * *

><p><em>23:25<em>

In the shadows under a tree, Bridge and Lily watched the front of the hotel. It was mostly deserted, the only police sitting in a police car, both snoozing softly.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Bridge asked, his hand slowly going over the ruined side of his face as if trying to massage feeling back into it.

"Do you doubt me?"

"Yes."

"Well don't. Come on, this is the place, it was all over the news." Lily grabbed Bridge by the arm and tried to pull him, but he quickly put one hand in front of Lily.

"Wait."

There was movement at the front of the lobby. Two figures appeared, male and female. Bridge squinted, trying to make out more detail, to see if he recognised them. "Is Sabrina there?"

"Nope. That's the gay guy and the Goth girl." Lily grinned. "No idea what they are doing."

"How would you know he's gay?"

"C'mon, it's obvious." Lily turned, a feline-like smile on her lips. "You don't know what gay guys look like?"

"Why would I?"

"All that leather and make-up?"

"Just lead me to Sabrina."

Lily started moving again, slinking down the grassy incline towards the glass windows. Once again Bridge stopped her, this time with a hand on her shoulder. Another pair of figures came out, this time two females. Bridge could see one had bright red hair. "Now there's Sabrina and… I believe Ruby was her name. Matches the hair, I suppose. Want to confront her here?"

"No. She's going somewhere. I want to know where. If she knows about what happened, then perhaps Ruby does as well, and perhaps they'll lead us to a… base of operations."

Lily's eyes gleamed. "I feel like a spy. This is fun!"

"This is serious!"

Shrugging, Lily started following behind the two figures ahead of them. "Serious is for the dull and boring. Let's get going, Bridge, c'mon. The lack of an eye isn't slowing you down, is it?"

"I'm fine." Bridge growled, and paced after Lily.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:- Thanks to Yajuu_Kikuishi for the review. Right then, next chapter's a fun one. **

'**Till then! **


	24. Encore Update

**A/N:- As much as I hate doing these "update" chapters, it is necessary. I'll keep this one short. I'm busy with a lot of stuff at the moment and I just can't concentrate on Encore at the moment. It's not that I don't enjoy it – far from it – I have some great ideas ready, but I simply can't put the time in, not to give the story the quality I want to give it. **

**So, I'm pausing the story. Not permanently, but I'm not sure for how long. I expect until I'm comfortable with the things I need to sort out. I apologize for doing this, and unfortunately I have done this before, but each time it does pain me. **

**Thanks to those of you who read Encore, and I hope that when I update again, you'll continue to do so. **


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